The Keys to Destiny
by Mistress Whimsy
Summary: AU. Dean/Castiel SLASH. What starts as a series of strange dreams about a man Dean has never met becomes the key to changing a destiny that was supposed to be unavoidable. NEW CHAPTER IS UP!
1. Chapter 1

_This idea was born after watching a Dean/Castiel video called To Chase A Dream by ScribbledDreaming. I was graciously given permission to pursue said idea. ^_^. I don't have the link at the moment because the account was deleted but I think I have located it. I'll know as soon as I get a reply to my PM. _

_This is an AU, so here's a quick history. Sam was still visited by Azazael when he was a baby but Mary never woke up, so Sam and Dean grew up normal. Sam is in college and Dean is a mechanic like John. Dean is dating Carmen (from the episode with the djinn "What Is and What Should Never Be") and Sam is with Jessica. Castiel is half human half "cupid". He has to eat, drink and sleep like any human but he has the powers of angels. _

_Note: I have messed with the Angels and Heaven. There are some similarities but I've added some things or changed others. _

_Right, I think that's it. Happy reading!_

... * ...

"Dean, I am going to work!" Carmen crossed her arms, attempting to stare down at her boyfriend menacingly. It was rather ruined by the quivering around her mouth as she desperately tried to hold back a laugh.

Dean leaned up on his elbow and reached out towards her eyes, wiggling his fingers in a way that was meant to be hypnotic but instead came out completely silly. "You don't want to work. You want to get back in this bed." He gave her his best puppy expression (which he would admit, if only to himself, would never be as effective as his younger brother's).

The strain of keeping her lips in a firm line finally became too much. Carmen began to laugh helplessly, dancing away when Dean tried to reach out and grab her legs. "I'm going!" She giggled as she snatched her keys from the bedside table, before Dean could hide them. "Go to sleep."

"I did not get under these covers to sleep!" Dean declared, stubbornly swiping at her hand as she darted away from the table. A grin of his own was steadily stretching across his face.

Carmen blew him a kiss as she backed towards the bedroom door. "Sorry, babe, but you'll have to have fun without me."

Dean fell back against the pillows, laughing as his girl disappeared into the living room.

It wasn't an ideal situation. Carmen worked nights and Dean worked days, so they only saw each other for a few hours at a time. She was working to get a day shift but that meant waiting for someone else to quit or get fired. More often than not she was too tired to do much more than crawl in bed with him for the few short hours they had in the morning before Dean went to work. It could get a bit frustrating in the sexual department, particularly with Dean's appetite.

Shifting onto his side, Dean burrowed his head into the pillow and glanced up towards the glowing numbers of the clock. 10 p.m.

Without ever really realizing it, Dean's eyes slipped closed. He knew he was dreaming when he found himself standing at the edge of a wide river, one that looked perfect for fishing. There was even a pole lying at his feet. Dean grinned to himself as he sat down and picked up the pole; it was a secret hobby of his, fishing. It didn't really have anything to do with the fish themselves, in fact he rarely actually caught a fish, it was just the peacefulness of it, of sitting still and quiet, of the sense that you had all the time in the world to just watch the river and listen to whatever birds happened to be singing nearby.

The pole was already baited, of course, because in good dreams everything was simple. Dean cast it out into the water, watched the line soar through the air in a thin arc before slipping with a little plop! into the river. The sand at the very edge of the water was nice and soft, so he stuck the pole in it and sat back on his hands, closing his eyes so he could enjoy the warmth of the sun on his face.

Felt very real, this dream.

"Hello."

Surprised, Dean opened his eyes and sat up, twisting around to find the source of the sudden voice. A man was standing at the edge of the river, no more than three feet away. He was short like Dean but more compactly built. His dark brown hair was just long enough to be a bit messy and it was spiked at the front. Ice blue eyes, the kind of wide, open eyes that didn't know how to lie, studied him curiously, head cocked in a manner that reminded Dean of a dog. Dean looked back at the man with the same level of curiosity; he rarely had company in his dreams and if he did it was Carmen, or Sam, or someone else he knew. He'd never invented anyone before.

"Hi," Dean said finally. What the hell, it was just a dream.

The man seemed to take Dean's acceptance of his greeting as some kind of invitation, because he suddenly strode forward and sat down beside him. He smiled when Dean looked at him, a small but friendly expression.

"So..." Dean waited to see if the man would say anything. When he didn't he continued. "What's your name?"

"Castiel," He replied.

Dean laughed. "Castiel? That's a weird name."

The man just smiled; he didn't seem in the least bit offended. "My mother wanted me to seem angelic."

"Oh yeah? Are you?" Dean asked, getting more amused by the second. Quite a funny character his mind had come up with.

"Sometimes," Castiel replied wryly. "You like fishing?"

Dean leaned back again, comfortable now that he'd reminded himself this was just a dream. "Yup. Don't really care if I catch anything, it's just nice to sit here."

"Peaceful," Castiel said simply.

Dean nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Peaceful."

Shifting around again, Dean laid back against the grass, crossing his hands behind his head. The bank was sloped down towards the river, so he could still see his pole from the position. He glanced towards his strange new companion, who was still watching him with open curiosity. "Not used to having strangers in my dreams," Dean said after a moment.

"If you get to know me, I won't be a stranger anymore," Castiel replied.

Dean chuckled, though the sound was slightly confused. That was an odd thing to say. "Alright," He said with a shrug; it was just a dream. Why not go with it? "Tell me something."

Castiel cocked his head again, thoughtfully this time. "I don't like to fish," He said after a moment. He smiled when Dean laughed. "But I like the water. I swim very well. I used to swim here when I was a child."

Dean frowned to himself; amusing as this creation of his mind was, it seemed his imagination had put an unusual amount of elaboration behind it. Maybe this was his subconscious telling him he needed to hang out with his friends more? He had been something of a couch potato lately. "I don't swim very well," Dean said finally. He was curious again, wondering how far his imagination would run with this.

"Maybe someday I'll teach you." Castiel turned to look down at Dean as he said this, the expression in his eyes intent, yet unreadable. When he leaned down suddenly, shifting on his elbow so that he was hovering mere inches above Dean, the man tried to back away. Dream or no, the close proximity to a stranger was too uncomfortable. Yet instead of sliding up the slope Dean found he was frozen in place, as though Castiel's gaze alone had trapped him.

"Do you know me, Dean?" Castiel murmured, voice soft and strangely pleading.

"I didn't tell you my name," Dean murmured, and then his eyes were snapping open as Carmen climbed into bed with him. His eyes flicked towards the clock; 7:30 a.m.

"Bad dream?" Carmen asked as she draped an arm across his chest, her head tilted up towards his to show him concerned eyes.

"Odd," Dean answered a bit shakily. He relaxed back against the pillows and reached up to wrap his arms around his girl. "Just odd. No big deal."

... * ...

"Dean!" Castiel's eyes snapped open as the other man woke, harshly dragging the soul he had only just found away from him. The half-blood lifted a hand and rubbed it across his eyes, the effort of not only finding Dean's consciousness but finding his way inside it having tired him out despite the nine hours of solid sleep.

"Castiel? Are you okay?"

Castiel let out a soft moan of frustration and fell back against his bed. "Mother! Please stop letting yourself into my house!"

His bedroom door opened to admit a short, plump woman in her late fifties. She had a round face that refused to lose its smile even in the face of Castiel's obvious discontent. "Who is Dean?" she asked. "You aren't...using your abilities again, are you?"

"You mean my cupid powers?" Castiel slid both hands over his face; this wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation and it wouldn't be the last. "They aren't evil, Mother."

"They aren't safe," she replied, the worry in her voice so heavy Castiel could feel it like a weight on his shoulders. "They might find out."

"If they haven't objected yet I doubt they are going to," Castiel countered.

"I'm not worried about the cherubs, I'm worried about the angels." His mother sat down on the edge of the bed and put a warm, delicate hand on his shoulder. "Who is Dean?"

Castiel let his hands fall away from his face, though his gaze remained locked on the ceiling. "I don't know yet. I just know I've been looking for him for a very long time." Finally, he turned to face his mother. "Why are you here?"

His mother sighed and stood from the bed. "I get lonely in that house by myself. Don't you ever get lonely, Castiel?"

Castiel almost laughed; his mother had no idea. Since he could remember he'd been searching for a person, a person he could feel to the very core of his soul but couldn't find. Now, finally, Castiel _had_ found him, and he was still so far away.

"I'll go down and make something to eat," Castiel vaguely heard his mother say.

The half-blood paid her no mind. Instead he smiled to himself as he let himself wander back into the dream. Dean...God, Dean had been _beautiful. _Souls were bright things, no matter what, but Dean's had been blinding. It was always the first thing he noticed, unlike most humans and their obsession with appearance. Physical looks were more of a second thought, something not nearly so important, though in his opinion Dean's outside had definitely reflected his inside. Strong, bright, yet edged in a roughness he suspected hid a somewhat shy interior.

Rolling into a sitting position, Castiel reached for the clock beside his bed. 7:45 a.m. He didn't have to be at work for a little over two hours. That was good, in his eagerness to finally contact Dean he'd forgotten to take a shower last night and his head was starting to itch something fierce. A good long shower sounded great right about then.

As he shucked off his boxers and discarded them into the basket that served as his hamper, Castiel thought again of the brightness of Dean's soul. Something that brilliant usually indicated two things; an unusually good person or a soul with a purpose. Or, sometimes, both. From what little he'd seen of Dean the man was a bit rough around the edges, but that didn't mean he wasn't a good man. He hoped it was simply that, and not the purpose he feared might be in store for him.

Pain bloomed behind his eyes seconds after he turned on the water; they were talking again. Sometimes it didn't hurt when the angels spoke but when they were all talking at once it tended to cause one hell of a headache. Castiel groaned softly as he stepped under the hot spray and leaned his head against the steam heated tiles. What now? They'd been so active lately, more active then he'd ever felt them. Something to do with that demon, Azazael. Or was it Lilith this time? No...it was Azazael. And children, children with powers. He'd heard mentions of them before. They were dangerous and they didn't even know it. Hunted by angels and sought out by demons. Castiel felt so sorry for them that sometimes it hurt. Literally. It was part of his abilities, a kind of empathy that he thought came from a mix of his 'cupid' father's love focused powers and human caring.

"Go away," Castiel murmured against the tiles. He was already tired, he didn't want to hurt on top of it.

The voices faded from him, pushed away by his will. It didn't always work, sometimes he had no choice but to listen in on their conversations. Fortunately today was not one of those days.

By the time he dressed and made it downstairs his mother had eggs, bacon and a glass of orange juice on the table. Castiel sighed but sat down and started in anyway; he had never been the breakfast type, he liked a quick bowl of cereal or just a breakfast bar of some kind, but his Mother would never let him hear the end of it if he didn't eat.

"There is almost nothing in your fridge," his Mother fussed as she closed the refrigerator door and sat down with a cup of coffee, watered almost out of existence by the amount of milk she'd put in. Castiel winced slightly; in his mind, black was the only way to drink it.

"I don't eat very much," Castiel said simply. That wasn't entirely true, he ate all three meals, he just didn't eat in the house often. The diner let him eat for free, so there didn't seem to be any reason to stock up on food that he wouldn't eat.

His Mother said nothing, only sighed quietly and took a sip of her coffee. "You don't like it when I come to see you, do you?"

Guilt spiked through the half-blood at that. He smiled sheepishly over his orange juice. "I do. I just don't like it when you come in unannounced. I knock when I go to your house."

"I know, I know. Alright, I'll knock next time, I promise."

No, she wouldn't. But Castiel couldn't help smiling at his Mother as her own smile returned. She was fussy and invasive but she loved him. People had no idea how much that meant. How much power that held.

"I have to go to work," Castiel said. The clock now read 9:30. He drained the orange juice but left the bacon; he never had been able to make his Mother understand that he didn't like meat. "Goodbye."

"Bye hun," his Mother answered quietly. Her hands were slack around the coffee cup, her eyes concerned again as she looked up at him.

"I was meant to find Dean," Castiel said when it became apparent that she wasn't going to stop staring. "There is nothing to be concerned about."

His Mother nodded once, still concerned, still uneasy, yet accepting. "Alright."

Castiel nodded back before he turned and walked out the door.

... * ...

It had been a long day. Cassy, the girl who had been scheduled to come in and take over for him at six, had been three hours late due to car problems. Castiel didn't own a car, didn't even know how to drive. It was something he'd never felt right about learning. It only took him fifteen minutes to walk to the diner, so he should have been home forty five minutes ago.

Stumbling into the downstairs bathroom, Castiel yanked open one of several cheap, plastic drawers and dug through it until he found his bottle of Advil. He took two before he began to drag himself upstairs. Bed, he wanted his bed and the bliss of painless sleep.

Five minutes after leaving the diner Castiel had been hit with it, more of a mass intake of knowledge than the confusing conversations that often filled his head. Azazael was collecting the children and even the angels didn't know why. He'd seen faces, most innocent and unknowing of their powers. One in particular had been oddly vivid, a handsome young man in college with a beautiful girlfriend and an amazing future ahead of him. His face was still clear in his mind and something about it was familiar.

Stripping down to nothing but his boxers, Castiel crawled under the covers and pulled them over his head, creating a cocoon that felt safe even if it wasn't. He closed his eyes and let the vision of the young man's face drift there in his mind. There was something in the smile, the eyes...

When Castiel opened his eyes he was standing by the river again. Dean was sitting at the edge, without the pole this time, the way his eyes darted about suggesting he was waiting for something. Surprise struck Castiel sharply; before it had taken a great deal of effort to appear in Dean's dream. Had he been accepted already?

"Dean?"

The man looked up sharply, seeming only somewhat surprised. "Huh. Hi."

Castiel felt such relief at seeing Dean that it was almost ridiculous. No, it was absolutely ridiculous. He really did need to find out _why _he felt such a connection with this particular soul. "Hi Dean," Castiel said with a small smile. He walked to the river's edge and sat down heavily beside the other man, feeling tired even within the dream.

For a long moment Dean stared at him uncertainly. Then he shrugged to himself and apparently decided it was alright that the half-blood was there. "You look beat."

"I had a very long day," Castiel said tiredly. Then, remembering this was a dream, he willed his weariness away. It only worked partially, as he wasn't really in his own dream. "I am happy to see you."

Dean chuckled, though the reaction seemed confused. "Um, thanks, I guess."

The man turned to stare over the river, though he cast occasional, curious glances at the half blood. For a moment Castiel felt somewhat lost. He'd been searching for Dean for so long, but had the other man felt any of it? Did he have any idea about the connection between them? Would that connection even be enough? What if they got to know each other and ended up hating each other?

The questions upset him. He turned to look at Dean with apprehension. "Am I still a stranger, Dean?"

Dean snorted. "Yeah, man. One dream doesn't make you a buddy, you know."

"Oh." Castiel thought a moment; he didn't want to be a stranger to Dean. He didn't want Dean to be a stranger to him, for that matter, no matter the risk. He would never know what was happening, what exactly the connection was, if he didn't try. "We should fix that."

"Yeah? Alright, I guess. How do we fix it?" The look on Dean's face said he thought this was his imagination in overdrive. For now, Castiel let him think it. Even as a half angel he'd had difficulty adjusting to the knowledge he had. He could only imagine how a full blooded human would react.

"Ask me a question," Castiel said after a moment. "And then I will ask you one."

"Okay..." Dean leaned back on his hands like he had last time, staring thoughtfully at the sky. "How old are you?"

"Twenty three," Castiel replied immediately.

"Twenty four," Dean said, pointing to himself. "Your turn."

"Favorite color?" Castiel asked. Basics were good, he thought. They led to the more complex things.

"Uh...brown, I guess," Dean said with a shrug. "Yours?"

"Blue," Castiel replied immediately, without hesitation. Blue was a calm, tranquil color. Castiel very much liked calming things, particularly after having his mind overpowered by the conversations of aggravated angels.

"Blue, hm?" Dean chuckled suddenly. "That's Sam's favorite color."

"Who is Sam?" Castiel asked curiously.

"My little brother," Dean answered. "He's in college. Got a girlfriend so beyond his league I think he must have drugged her."

Castiel smiled. "You're proud of him."

Dean shrugged and ducked his head a bit but Castiel saw the flash of a grin anyway. "Yeah, I guess."

"Tell me about your brother," Castiel requested carefully. It seemed more personal than the question exchange they'd begun. This was important to Dean. That meant it was important to him.

This was something Dean seemed very willing to talk about. He told Cas about how he'd looked after Sam when they were younger, how they'd never had a whole lot in common but that they both loved the same beer and they both liked to sit and 'fish' without really fishing. They'd looked after each other, confided in each other, supported each other in their opposing career choices. The more Castiel listened the more he smiled, because when Dean spoke of Sam his eyes lit up and the corners of his lips turned up in a fond sort of smile.

"'Course, it's not like it's all roses and sunshine, either," Dean mentioned. "When we do fight, we fight. There was this time when he was fifteen and he brought home his first girlfriend. I was being a dick, I think...I mean, I was just playin' around, you know, but he got all upset and punched me in the mouth. We broke the coffee table, he broke my nose and I broke his arm." Dean reached up and tapped his nose, drawing Castiel's attention to the tiniest imperfection in the set of it. "Then we both ended up feeling like shit 'cause that coffee table was Mom's favorite, so we managed to put it back together. Which ended the fight." Dean chuckled faintly to himself, then gave a small shake of his head, as though snapping out of a daze, and flicked his eyes up towards Castiel. "What about you. Got any siblings?"

"No, I was an only child," Castiel replied. "I had a friend when I was younger who was like a brother to me but he moved away when I was nine."

The half-blood saw a sudden change in Dean's expression, a shift from easy comradeship to narrow eyed confusion. He stared at Castiel in a way that could almost be described as calculating, or perhaps suspicious. Maybe both. Whatever the case, Castiel found he did not like it. He wanted Dean to look at him differently.

"What is it?" He asked finally, uncomfortably. He shifted, his eyes darting to the water and back, uncertain how to react to the sudden change.

"I just asked a figment of my imagination if he has any siblings," Dean said frankly. He was beginning to look a little disturbed.

Castiel opened his eyes.

... * ...

CRASH!

"DAMN IT!"

Rob stuck his head out of the tiny box that served as his office, his thick brows drawn together in a mixed expression of wariness and concern. "Dean? Ya alright out here?"

Dean kicked the toolbox he'd knocked from the bench, then silently cursed himself as his toes began to throb from the harsh contact to the metal. "Yeah, sorry. Weird night, kinda distracted."

"Okay. You want some help?"

Dean shook his head but managed a grin at his boss. "I'm good, Rob, thanks."

"Okay." Rob disappeared back inside, back to his paperwork or the freecell game he refused to admit he played on their ancient computer. Dean chuckled a little at the thought; when there was work to be done, Rob expected no less than perfection, but on a slow day...well, if you weren't sleeping and you stayed in the building, he didn't really care what you did.

Getting down on his hands and knees, Dean began to pick up the tools that had scattered all over the concrete floor. He righted the toolbox, then stopped abruptly and stared at the socket wrench in his hand without really looking at it. Usually, he enjoyed coming to work. He'd been employed at Rob's Auto Shop for three years now. He liked his work, his boss, even most of the customers. Today it seemed he just couldn't get his head in the game.

_"I just asked a figment of my imagination if he has any siblings."_

A kind of growling noise escaped Dean as he threw the socket wrench into the box with more force than was necessary. What was with these weird dreams? This Castiel that his mind had created seemed so _real. _He'd seemed apprehensive and uncomfortable right before he'd snapped awake at the sound of his alarm. He spoke of his old friend with fondness. He looked at Dean with an emotion the man couldn't quite place. It was too real! He'd been unable to get it out of his mind, which had led to a moment of clumsiness and an upended toolbox.

Damn it. He needed a car to fix. Anything to take his mind off it.

It seemed his wish would not be granted. Four o'clock rolled around without a customer in sight. Dean tried to think of tomorrow, Saturday, the one day he and Carmen had off together. It was also the day Sammy was coming home for the summer. He hadn't seen his brother since Christmas, their only contact being random texts and occasional phone calls, and he was looking forward to spending some time with another human being other than his girlfriend. There were just some things you couldn't do with a girlfriend. Fishing that wasn't really fishing, for instance, though he supposed he _could _do that, if she didn't hate it.

Dean shook himself. He was mentally rambling. This was ridiculous.

At four thirty Rob told Dean to go home, they obviously weren't going to get any customers today. He climbed behind the wheel of his '67 Impala, reaching for the key with every intention of heading straight home but as the engine roared to life he hesitated. For a moment he sat there, hands hovering over the wheel, before he set them down and turned the car in the opposite direction of home.

Dean's Father, John, was mowing the lawn when he pulled up in front of his parents house. He didn't seem at all surprised to see his oldest son; Dean had a habit of dropping by at random times. There was something about his old home he just couldn't completely leave behind, something that repeatedly drew him back, even if it was only for short periods. The mower was shut down as Dean climbed out of the car and John lifted his hand in a wave, smiling as his son approached.

"Hey, Dad." Dean returned the smile as he stopped in front of his father. "Mom home?"

"Yeah, I think she's working on dinner," John replied with a nod. "Everything okay? You look tired."

"Yeah, bad couple of nights," Dean answered easily, hoping to wave it off as nothing. He didn't really want his Dad probing further into the matter. "Just can't seem to get any sleep. Was wondering if you'd mind me crashing here tonight, thought maybe I could get some decent sleep in a different place."

"We never mind, you know that." John reached over and slapped his son on the shoulder. "Hey, in the morning we can go over and pick up Carmen, have everyone be here to see Sam when he gets home."

"Sounds great," Dean said with a grin. "Need any help out here?"

John shook his head. "Nope, I'm just about done. See you inside."

Dean nodded and headed for the door. This was good, he thought. One of his Mom's dinners, a few beers, some pointless chit chat or TV and he'd be out like a light.

That night, as he lay on the couch with the muted TV casting flickering shadows across his still form, he dreamt of a different place. Instead of the river he found himself in a house. It seemed old but fairly nice, though the lack of decoration or even furniture made it seem barren. There was a small table in the kitchen with two chairs, a tiny TV and a beanbag in the living room. Only two pictures, from what he could see, and he started when he realized they were of Castiel and a woman who appeared to be in her late fifties.

Great. His plan hadn't worked. It had just changed the location.

"Dean?"

Dean turned to find Castiel standing behind him at the bottom of a set of stairs that started in the kitchen and wound around and out of his sight. He looked completely surprised, an expression that might have been comical had Dean been in any mood to laugh.

"I didn't..." Castiel took a step forward, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips. "You found me."

"I what?" Dean snapped. "Look, I'm tired of my own head playing games with me. You, you go away now." Dean waved a hand towards him, as though trying to swat away a fly. "You're getting a bit creepy. So...go."

Castiel sighed. He sat down in one of the two chairs at his table, staring steadfastly at the floor as he began to fiddle with a button on his blue shirt. "I can't just go. You're in my dream this time. You'd have to leave."

"What? This is my dream!" Dean cried insistently.

Castiel smiled slightly, almost sadly this time. "If you say so."

For a moment Dean didn't move, he simply stared at the man before him. Then he let out a frustrated sound and threw himself into the remaining chair. "Okay, obviously I'm stuck with you."

Castiel looked across the table at the other man, his eyes almost sad, like his smile. "Am I bad company, Dean?"

Dean shrugged. "Not really. I'm just not getting good sleep."

Castiel looked away but Dean caught just a glimpse of an emotion that looked suspiciously like guilt.

They sat there, silently, until Dean couldn't stand it anymore and finally spoke. "So...this your house?"

The other man shook his head. "I rent it."

"Ah. That why there aren't any pictures or anything on the walls?"

Castiel shook his head again. "No. I just...don't have any pictures. My Mother takes them every now and then. I don't even own a camera."

The room abruptly faded, making Dean jump when the table disappeared out from under him. He had to firmly remind himself that it was just a dream and if he fell it really wouldn't matter. "What's going on?"

Another room appeared around them, a small living room packed with odds and ends, overstuffed chairs and so many pillows that Dean thought he could have made a decent sized bed out of them. Castiel chuckled slightly, almost embarrassedly. "I seem to have moved to my Mother's house. I did tell you this was my dream."

For a moment Dean almost believed it. There were too many details in this room for him to have dreamt it up. Besides, his dreams almost never changed location.

Not unless it was _that _dream.

Dean shook himself; he didn't want to think about that. If he had to chose between that nightmare and this, he chose this. At least it was pleasant, even if it was weird.

"Well, I'm stuck here, so...tell me about this room." Dean held out his hands on either side of him to indicate the small, packed space.

Castiel looked surprised again but seemed happy to comply. "Alright. You see this silly dolphin figurine? My Mother found that..."

... * ...

_Wow, this is turning out to be a bit more difficult than I'd originally thought. Oh well, it's still a lot of fun. I'm hoping to have the link to the video soon, with any luck it will be in the next chapter. If you liked please review! ^_^_


	2. Chapter 2

_I found ScribbledDreaming's new account but she hasn't uploaded the video yet. I'll keep watching the channel to see if she does. ^_^. Happy reading!_

_... * ..._

Castiel screamed.

The voices of the angels echoed too loudly in his mind, the images crowding in and pressing hard, threatening to fill his mind until his skull cracked. Hands clutched spastically at his own head as he writhed futilely against the kitchen floor, his feet occasionally connecting with the wooden doors of cabinets or the legs of chairs. Through all the visions the face of the man who had stood out before hovered constantly, his eyes shifting rapidly from innocent to a kind of evil that made Castiel's skin crawl, even through the pain. The potential for both was there and Castiel found all he wanted was the reach through the chaos and burn away the evil that had been forced on a man he could feel was good.

The pain left in a sudden, relieving rush. Castiel collapsed, his limbs going limp and his eyes closing as he drew in deep breaths. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes. He considered getting up for his Advil and decided against it. He'd just lay here for a while, he decided. Just a bit...

Though he didn't fall asleep Castiel drifted, only vaguely aware of his surroundings. It had never been this bad. He'd never been invaded with so much at once, not even the episode from the other night had hit him so hard. This was by far more serious than anything he'd ever been privy to. He let the image of the man's face drift in his mind, tried to think of why it was so familiar.

He had distanced himself from his body so thoroughly that he didn't hear the bare feet padding across his kitchen floor, didn't notice a thing out of place until he felt a hand on his shoulder. It wasn't his Mother, the hand was too masculine. His door was locked, no one else had a key, who...

Castiel's eyes snapped open, meeting a blue gaze with a mixture of surprise and happiness.

"Are you hurt?" the man above him asked, his open face plainly showing his concern.

"Not so much now," Castiel replied with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Hi, Dad."

The Cherub grinned widely and slid an arm under Castiel's shoulders, helping him to sit up. Then his other arm came up so he could give his son a hug. For a Cherub, the self named Amor was rather subdued (and one of the only Cherubs who at least wore boxers around humans), though any normal person would still find his hugs to be uncomfortably personal. Castiel welcomed it. Though he loved his Mother, his relationship with his Father had always been deeper, somehow, and after this latest episode he was craving a little closeness.

At that thought an image of Dean flashed in his mind and his Father caught it immediately.

"Who's that?" Amor asked brightly. Castiel sighed a bit; sometimes he forgot that full fledged Angels, even the lower class Cherubs, could read minds, not just pick up emotions as he could.

"His name is Dean," Castiel replied, and then he perked up a bit when he realized Amor might be able to answer the question of why he felt so connected to this soul.

"May I look?" his Father asked, reaching up one hand towards his son's head. Castiel nodded and Amor touched his forehead with two fingers, closing his eyes so he could absorb the knowledge of Dean. The longer he sat there the more he grinned and Castiel began to fidget, curiosity making him restless.

"What is it?" He finally asked.

Amor laughed delightedly. He opened his eyes and flung his arms back around Castiel in a tight hug. "Castiel, you found your soulmate!"

Castiel blinked, the only outward reaction to his surprise. Of course! It explained his connection to the soul of Dean. Now he just had to find out why he felt a connection to the man he currently was. He had learned from watching others that just because you were soulmates did not mean you were destined in a particular life. In fact, it seemed sometimes that soulmates were not meant to be together until near the end of their earthly journey. He wondered briefly if that was the case here and knew immediately it wasn't. Neither one of them was even close to any kind of end here.

Amor pulled back a bit so he could look down at Castiel, smiling happily because this was the point of his kind. They helped to encourage love, sometimes because there was a destiny behind it, sometimes simply because it made them happy to make others happy. "Have you met him personally yet?"

Castiel shook his head. "Just in dreams. He thinks he made me up."

Amor chuckled. "Humans do that. He'll come around eventually. Oh, or is he straight?" He looked dismayed by this thought.

"I think so," Castiel replied carefully. "But...I'm not discouraged. I just have this feeling."

"You go with that!" Amor cried encouragingly, hugging his son yet again. "I really should go soon, I'm not supposed to be here."

"You're never supposed to be here," Castiel replied bitterly.

Amor sighed. "I know. I don't know what the big deal is. It's not like I'm the only Angel who's ever mixed with humans. Besides, I hate being gone so much, it makes me a lousy father!"

Castiel hugged his Father back, hard, trying to reassure him. "You're not. You'd be lousy if you didn't try."

Amor finally sat back, though he remained sitting close to Castiel. The half-blood wondered if his own ease with closeness came from his Father. "You haven't told your Mother, right? I feel so bad about that, but I don't want to make this worse for her."

Castiel nodded. "I haven't told her. I don't think she'd understand why you come to see me but not her."

"It would hurt more when I left," Amor said with another sigh. "She doesn't understand like you do."

Amor was standing to leave when Castiel remembered to ask, "Why did you come here in the first place?"

"Oh, well there were two reasons," Amor replied. "I felt you were in pain, more than usual, and then I realized why and wanted to tell you that all this activity? The Cherubs aren't being allowed in on it, which means it's something huge. Try not to let them know you can hear, okay? I don't want them trying anything with you."

Castiel nodded. "Goodbye."

"Bye, son." Amor gave him one last hug and vanished.

... * ...

Sam and his girlfriend Jessica walked in the door just after eleven. Dean waited impatiently for his parents to go through their greeting process, hugging Sam and then Jessica, John patting him on the back and Mary asking how school was going. Then Sam blew by them all to throw his arms around his big brother, a hug that Dean returned briefly but enthusiastically. For some reason he couldn't understand, he always felt better when Sam was home and within his sight.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean greeted warmly.

"It's Sam," he replied lightly, a token resistance to a nickname he'd never truly objected to. At least, as long as it was Dean.

Dean cuffed his little brother on the side of the head as they pulled apart, which only made Sam laugh and cuff him right back. "How's it going?" Sam asked as they wandered away from their parents and Jessica and headed towards the couch.

"Great," Dean answered smoothly. Last night's dream hadn't tired him out as the others had, which he was glad for. It would have meant coming up with an explanation because Sam would notice, he always did. While he didn't want to tell anyone about the dreams just yet he didn't want to lie, either, particularly not to Sammy. "Carmen's good, we were going to bring her over but she was dead out of it when we got there, so I didn't wake her up. She's been really tired lately. Figured she could come over later."

"Great, Jessica wants to see her too." Sam leaned back against the couch with a small, happy sigh. "It's good to be home. School's been great but I was ready for a break."

Dean just nodded. "Want a beer?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

Dean got up and went to the kitchen, knowing John would have a case in the fridge somewhere. He didn't bother to ask because the answer was always yes. When he came back into the living room Sam was leaning forward on his knees, playing with something in his hands. Dean sat back down beside him and held out one beer, casting a curious glance at the small, black box that was revealed when Sam reached over to take the drink.

"Thanks." Sam set the box down on the coffee table, opened the beer and took a long swig before he nodded towards the box. "Three guesses."

Dean only needed one. "No way."

Sam nodded and took another swig, smiling nervously when he lowered the beer. "Yup. I bought it right before we left. Haven't asked yet, though, I keep hoping for this...I dunno, the perfect moment or something." He chuckled and fiddled with the neck of the beer bottle. "What do you think?"

Dean grinned. "Dude, it's awesome!" He reached over and clapped his brother on the back. "But I still think you drugged her."

"Shut up!" Sam punched Dean's shoulder hard enough to send the man tumbling over sideways. He laughed and kicked sideways, catching Sam in the shin.

"Ow! Jerk!"

"Bitch!" Dean replied, and then they laughed at the old game.

As Dean straightened Sam reached out and picked up the box, holding it out questioningly towards Dean. Curious, Dean took it and opened it. His eyebrows rose slightly in surprise at the contents. "Kind of...plain, isn't it?"

Sam whacked him on the shoulder again. "She doesn't really like diamonds," he explained. "Or jewels, actually. You should see her necklaces. Take a closer look."

Dean lifted the ring nestled inside the black box a little closer. At first glance he'd thought it was just a plain silver band but upon closer inspection he discovered a tiny circle of green ivy that wound it's way around to connect to a single red rose. It seemed sort of weird to him but at the same time it was kind of neat, if only because it was unique.

"Ivy and roses are her two favorite plants," Sam said suddenly, nervously. "So I had it custom made 'cause I couldn't find anything like it." He suddenly snatched the box from Dean's hand and stuffed it into his pocket. "What if she hates it?"

"Dude, chill. She won't hate it."

Sam didn't look convinced but he smiled anyway.

Their parents and Jessica came in a moment later, making Sam pat his pocket to assure himself that his secret was still safely hidden. John soon slipped away when Mary and Jess began to talk about 'the boys' as kids (which somehow seemed to happen _every time _Sam came home) and after an hour or so Dean and Sam exchanged a glance, nodded to each other and, when the other two weren't looking, snuck outside and ran to the Impala, laughing like a couple of teenagers who'd just gotten away with pranking the neighbor.

"NO!" Dean yelled when Sam tried to steal the keys from him.

"Oh come on!" Sam pouted, something Dean had become convinced his little brother now did on instinct after perfecting it as a kid. Dean wavered, glancing from his brother to the car and back again.

"On the way back!" Dean caved as he pulled open the door.

"You swear?" Sam pressed as he climbed in the other side, though his pout had vanished to reveal a wide grin.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered, trying to fake irritation and failing miserably.

Roughly thirty miles out of town was a river that Sam and Dean had spent the majority of their free time at, after Dean had learned to drive. Whenever Sam came to visit for the summer they ended up there, sooner or later. Mary and Jess had gotten used to them sneaking out without telling them where they were going, had even made a kind of game out of it, though they'd never actually managed to catch the two leaving.

The river was a quarter of a mile into the woods, so Dean parked just off the road. Sam jumped out of the car and took off into the trees before Dean had even opened the car door. "Cheater!" Dean yelled as he threw open the door and ran after Sam. Though Sammy had longer legs, Dean was still a touch faster than his little brother, so Sam gave himself 'head starts.' They broke through the trees at almost the same time but Sam didn't stop. Dean let out a surprised laugh as his little brother leapt straight into the river, clothes and all. He came up laughing, shaking his head to rid himself of the excess water pouring into his eyes as he sloshed his way back to the bank.

"The hell?" Dean chuckled as Sam fell backwards into the grass. He sat down beside his brother, laughing again when he saw the big grin on Sam's face.

"Spur of the moment thing," Sam answered. "We forgot the poles."

Dean gave a dismissive shrug and fell over backwards, mimicking Sam's position. "I don't care."

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, I don't either."

They lay there for what could have been hours or mere minutes, talking about Jess and Carmen, Dean's job, college. The sun was warm, making them feel lazy and slowly lulling Dean to sleep, though he didn't realize it until he saw a newly familiar figure sitting by the river. He looked over and saw Sam, his face relaxed and peaceful in sleep, and had a moment of confusion. He had fallen asleep, hadn't he? Everything seemed the same, except...

"Cas?"

For a moment the other man didn't move. Then he turned suddenly, looking slightly surprised. "Cas?" He repeated curiously.

Yup, he was definitely dreaming. He looked down at Sammy one more time, even reached out to touch him. A frown creased his brow; this seemed too real. Slowly and somewhat uncertainly, he stood and walked down to stand beside Castiel.

"It's easier," He said distractedly when the other man continued to look at him strangely. "I swear nothing just changed. I feel like I'm still awake."

"Sometimes we dream about being awake," Castiel replied. "Why are you asleep in the middle of the day?"

Accepting that he really was asleep, Dean settled at the edge of the river, knowing from the last dream there was no escape from this. Besides, it really wasn't so bad. He definitely could have invented a worse person. "Sammy and I come here when he's on summer break. That's him back there. Guess the sun just kind of put us to sleep. What about you?"

Castiel didn't answer. He had twisted around to look at Sam. Though his face remained perfectly calm Dean saw something in his eyes...shock? "What is it?" He asked.

"I..." Castiel leaned closer, squinting against the sun before he suddenly shook his head. "It's nothing. I thought I knew him." He shifted again, turning partially towards Dean. The shock was gone but Dean thought he saw sadness in the other man's eyes. "You like to keep him close, don't you?"

Dean shrugged. "Protective big brother instincts," He said simply. "So...why are _you _asleep in the middle of the day?"

"My head hurt," Castiel replied with a shrug. "Very badly. The Advil wasn't helping, so I thought maybe I could sleep it off."

"Hangover?" Dean asked with a small grin.

Castiel chuckled, just a little. "You...could say that. It's very nice here. Similar to the other river."

"More trees," Dean said obviously, and then he wanted to smack himself for saying it. Of course there were more trees! Cas wasn't blind! What the hell had he said that for? "It's smaller too." _Stop talking, idjit!,_ he yelled mentally, unconsciously mimicking John's friend Bobby. He couldn't even recall how many times Bobby had called Sam and himself 'idjits' before he'd mysteriously packed up and moved to South Dakota without warning eight years ago.

Glancing at Castiel out of the corner of his eye, Dean discovered the other man was smiling at him in a way that could almost be described as fond. Fond and absolutely amused. "Shut up," Dean muttered.

"I didn't say anything," Castiel replied.

"Shut up anyway," Dean growled. It only made the other man laugh.

"Do you know how to shift your dreams, Dean?" Castiel asked suddenly.

Dean gave him an odd look and shook his head. "Nope. Why?"

Castiel gave a small shrug and looked away, into the water. "I just...wanted to see more of you. Your life."

This answer stirred the strangest reaction in Dean. Part of him thought it was just weird, another part found it almost threatening, yet another part received a kind of warm feeling, similar to how he felt around Sammy but different, somehow, and underneath it all a distant yet nagging desire to give Cas what he wanted.

Abruptly, without any warning at all, Dean found himself standing at the edge of the road beside his Impala.

"Huh. That was easy," Dean said with a slight grin. He turned and saw Castiel standing beside him, looking slightly startled but also very pleased.

"Is this your car?" He asked.

Dean nodded. "Aside from family, this baby is my life." Dean strode forward and put a hand on the hood of the car with a warm smile. "It was my Dad's, he bought it when he was eighteen, and then he gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday."

"It's nice. What kind of car is it?"

Dean stared at him incredulously. "You're kidding, right?"

Castiel shook his head, grinning a little self consciously. "I don't know much about cars. I can't even drive."

Couldn't drive? That had been on Dean's list of things that would make his world like hell. "How do you get around?"

"I walk," Castiel said. "Everything I need is within a half an hour's walk of my house."

"Yeah, but don't you ever just want to go? You know, take off for a while?" Dean couldn't imagine not having the freedom to just leave, to take his car for the weekend and drive wherever he wanted.

"I...have other ways."

Yeah, that made a lot of sense. "Whatever," Dean muttered. "It's a '67 Chevrole Impala."

"It looks good for it's age." Castiel flashed a quick grin and Dean laughed. So, Cas had a sense of humor. Or...if he'd invented Cas, was that just how own sense of humor? Dean shook his head; it was too weird to think about.

"Dad fixed it up. It has it's imperfections." Dean pointed towards the heater vents. "Whenever you turn on the heater it rattles, 'cause I stuffed some legos down there when I was nine. There's a G.I Joe stuck in the back left door that Sam forced in there on one of our road trips when he was six. Gives it character."

"And history." Castiel peered into the window and smiled when he found the G.I Joe. "Do you remember my Mother's living room? Under one of the chairs there's a big blue and green stain in the carpet because I decided one day that I wanted to play with food coloring. She caught me trying to pull a couch we had back then over it. She says every time she looks at it it makes her laugh."

Abruptly, Castiel reached out and put a hand over Dean's. The other man started, surprised at just how real that hand felt. Were these dreams ever going to stop surprising him? Were they ever going to stop at all?

"Dean..." Castiel glanced towards the trees, towards the river, then back to Dean. "Keep Sam close. And if you see a man with yellow eyes, run. Run like both your lives depend on it."

"Dean! Wake up!"

A sudden impact with his chest made Dean's eyes snap open as a gasp was forced passed his lips. Sam was leaning over him, grinning, though he quickly backed away when he saw Dean was awake.

"Did you just hit me?" Dean sat up and rubbed at his chest, which was throbbing a little. Not that he would admit that out loud.

"You wouldn't wake up," Sam said with a shrug. "And you kept mumbling something about a 'Cas.' And the Impala."

"Yeah? Don't remember," Dean said dismissively, though he felt horrible the moment he said it. He hated lying to Sammy. "What time is it?"

Sam checked his watch. "Two. Should we go back?"

"Nah, lets go for a swim." Dean stood up and yanked his shirt over his head without waiting for an answer. He'd thought he'd accepted these dreams but the details of Castiel's story about the food coloring, the emotion, even the strangely vivid feel of his hand, had coaxed the disturbed sensation back to life. Maybe a swim would help distract him.

... * ...

When Castiel awoke his headache had eased somewhat. He'd thought it would be alright earlier but when he'd finally managed to get off the kitchen floor it had returned with a vengeance. He glanced at the clock; just after two.

Sitting up, Castiel released a quiet groan as his stiff neck protested the movement. A bean bag was not a good place to sleep. Particularly not for a grown man who couldn't fully fit into said bean bag. The half blood reached up to rub the back of his neck as he pushed himself to his feet and headed towards the kitchen. Then, half way there, he changed his mind and instead turned towards the front door. A walk would do him some good right then, he thought. Maybe help to clear his mind.

The front lawn of the rental was rather depressing. When Castiel had first moved in it had been nothing but dirt. Now, a few sparse patches of brown grass grew around the three steps but it only made it seem even more depressing. Many of the surrounding houses were similar but Castiel ignored the dead yards and headed behind his house, where the city ended. Then he stopped, glanced around him to make sure no one was watching and disappeared.

When he reappeared he was standing at the edge of the river that Dean had subconsciously found on their first meeting. Angels were able to instantly transport themselves wherever they wished but Castiel, being half human, was limited to places he had seen and, unfortunately, dreams did not count. Still, he had seen a fair amount of places and this was one of his favorite escapes. He suddenly chuckled to himself for thinking of this as a 'walk.' A walk usually included actually moving your feet more than six or seven steps.

A swim, then, he thought. It was the perfect day for it and swimming helped him think.

Casting another glance around to again assure himself that he was alone, Castiel threw off his clothes and waded into the slow moving water near the edge of the river. He stood there a moment, enjoying the coolness against his legs and feet, before he dove forward into the deeper water. The current here was strong but not so strong that Castiel couldn't swim against it and that was exactly what he did, until his arms and legs began to burn. Only then did he return to the shallows, lying on his back, ignoring the few rocks that poked into his skin.

His Father had answered one question for him. Dean was his soulmate. It made sense that he had been able to sense him, since a Cherub's powers were focused on love. It also made sense that Dean hadn't been able to feel Castiel, because humans rarely consciously felt the pull to their soulmates. More often than not they weren't even meant to be with their soulmates until a different life. Castiel didn't believe that to be the case here. Particularly not after seeing Dean's brother.

Sam. A name to go with the face he'd been seeing. It couldn't be coincidence. Castiel didn't believe in coincidence.

He had to find out where Dean lived. Nothing he'd seen yet had been conclusive and he didn't know if Dean would answer him if he asked outright. He could see Dean's growing disturbance and it bothered him. He didn't want Dean to be afraid of him or disturbed by him, yet he didn't know how to explain it without making it worse. How did you explain to a human that you could leap into a person's dreams because you were half Angel? How did you explain to a straight man that you were his soulmate? How did you explain to a big brother that his beloved baby brother had demon blood in him?

His head hurt again.

The sun was dipping into mid evening when Castiel finally crawled out of the water. He didn't bother to put his clothes back on, he just gathered them up and reappeared back inside his house. As he dropped his clothes onto the kitchen table he wondered vaguely why he'd bothered to go outside at all earlier. Maybe so he could tell himself he'd actually walked? He laughed out loud, just because he felt silly right then, and dug his boxers out of the pile of clothes. Then he threw them back down and headed upstairs for a shower. There was no one here and if his Mother chose to walk in without knocking again then it would be her own fault!

Castiel was half way up the stairs when he heard a slight rustling, like a bird taking to the air. Arms wrapped around him from behind and the next thing he knew he was standing in what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. His clothes had mysteriously reappeared.

"Dad?" Castiel knew it was him, even though he couldn't see him.

"Sh!" The arms slipped away from him and Castiel felt suddenly afraid. He'd known it was his father's arms around him on the stairs but now, with the strange location and the silence from the usually chatty Cherub, the half blood knew something was wrong. Still, he stayed silent as he turned to find Amor, his dark brown hair a mess, the blue eyes that Castiel had inherited wide with fear. He was fully clothed in a pair of jeans and a black tee, which told Castiel that something wasn't wrong. It was disastrous.

"Okay, I think we're clear." Amor strode back to his son and hugged him, desperately. Castiel hugged him back, though his fear only increased.

"What is it?" He asked quietly. The sense of unease gave him an intent need to keep his voice down.

"Someone was waiting for you in your room," Amor said quickly. "An Angel called Uriel. He's..." Amor made pointless gestures with his hands, a sign he didn't know what to say. "He's...not so good. He does horrible things in the name of Heaven."

"What did he want with me?" So his Mother had been right. They had found him.

"Oh no, they found you ages ago," Amor replied immediately to the thought. "Some of them weren't too happy but others...well, they seemed to think it was a good thing. And I don't know. But it has to do with those children, the ones Azazael corrupted. And possibly Dean. You need to find him."

"Why?"

"Because they don't want you to." Amor suddenly froze. His eyes darted around wildly before he suddenly reached out and slammed a hand over Castiel's chest. There was a flare of white light and a brief, sharp pain that made Castiel bite his lip to keep from crying out. Then it was gone.

"They can't find you now, unless they actually physically see you," Amor said, even more quickly than before. "Do this to Dean when you find him. I can't explain how, you'll just know. Remember, soulmates are powerful even if they're apart, but together they can change destiny." He glanced around again, the fear in his eyes spiking. "Don't go home!"

Then he vanished.

Castiel held still for all of ten seconds. Then he ran. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, out the door that was hanging half off it's hinges, across cracked pavement that had once been a parking lot. As he ran he wished briefly that Cherubs could find anyone, not just the people they were meant to mark, because it would have made finding Dean so much easier. Then he thought of nothing but getting as far from the warehouse as he possibly could before his legs gave out.

When Castiel finally collapsed he was just off the road, hidden in the trees to be safe, facing a sign big green road sign that read:

**Topeka 87 miles**

**Lawrence 118 miles**

Without really knowing why, Castiel stared for some time at the sign. Most of the places he could transport himself to were too close to home. A few were a good fifty miles away but he didn't want to risk it. If an Angel was looking for him they would have eyes in more places than his home. He didn't know what Uriel looked like, or any other Angels that he might have helping him, for that matter, so he didn't want to risk trying to hitch a ride.

"Guess I'm really going for a walk now," Castiel muttered to himself.

One of the city name's looked familiar. Lawrence. It was only twenty miles from Baldwin City, where he lived. Topeka was closer but the more he stared at the sign the more he felt he should go the extra mile...or thirty one miles...to Lawrence. Everything about it just seemed right and Castiel never ignored his instincts.

Staying inside the trees, Castiel began to walk, trying not to let himself think about just how far he had to go. In a car, without delays, it would have taken nearly two hours just to get to the closest city. On foot? He didn't even want to contemplate it. He would just keep going until it started to get dark, then try to find somewhere to sleep. Preferably not out in the open like this, though he knew he could if he had to. His powers would, at least, help keep away wild animals.

It was nearly nightfall and he was accepting the fact that he _would _be sleeping outside when the most obvious thought hit him.

What if Dean lived in Lawrence?

... * ...

_I actually looked up the distances for Topeka and Lawrence on map quest. lol. I think I used Abilene to judge those distances. Reviews make my day! *hopeful look* ^_^_


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel hated the dark. As a child he had often taken his mother's flashlight with him to bed and laid there under the covers, staring at the comforting light. When he was five his father had appeared under the covers with him and shown him a different kind of light, one that every Angel had. He used it now as he tucked himself under the low hanging branches of a fir tree. The soft, bluish white light emanated gently from inside him, faintly outlining the vague shape of white wings. An Angel's wings were different than humans thought. They weren't something you could physically touch, though they could be felt even by the human hand. Even Amor had a difficult time attempting to describe exactly what an Angel's wings really were. "It's a kind of celestial energy," He'd told Castiel once. "Every type of Angel has a different kind."

Castiel had never actually seen another Angel besides his father but he knew that Archangels had black wings rather than the white wings Cherubs possessed. Was it the difference between love and war? The thought made him laugh a little, though there was no real humor in it. It did make a certain sense, when he thought about it. Cherub wings contained much of their power, and most of their power was entirely focused on love.

Castiel twisted his head over his shoulder, his blue eyes wandering over the pale reflection of his energy against the tree and it's shadows. No matter what kind of Angel, every one of them could use their energy to fly when in their true form. The half blood sighed wistfully; it was something he'd always wished for but never managed. There was too much human in him for it.

He knew he'd fallen asleep when the ground beneath him became softer, more comfortable, and the branches above him glistened as the sun touched them. Much better, he thought with a smile.

There came a sudden rustling sound as several branches were grasped and pulled upwards. When Dean stuck his head under them Castiel laughed aloud at the look of mixed annoyance, acceptance and maybe, if his eyes weren't deceiving him, a bit of gladness.

"Okay, I give up," Dean announced as he crawled under the branches to sit beside Castiel.

"Give up what?" Castiel asked.

"I went to sleep and told myself that I was not going to have a dream with you in it tonight," Dean replied as he leaned back against the trunk and peered curiously at the shine the tree had taken on in the sunlight. "So, I give up. I'm twenty four and I'm stuck with an imaginary friend."

Castiel laughed again, a little more quietly this time. "Who said there has to be an age limit for imaginary friends?"

Dean shrugged and grinned, just a bit. "Maybe I'm just trying to tell myself I need to go out more. I mean, if I really think about it, my brother is my only _real _friend."

"People don't like you?" the half blood sounded genuinely surprised. From what he'd seen, Dean was very likable. A bit rough around the edges, yes, but very likable nonetheless.

Dean punched Castiel on the shoulder and glared at him. "Lots of people like me! I...hey, you okay? Did I hit you too hard?" The man reached out and touched Castiel's shoulder, his glare morphing into something more apologetic. "Sorry, I'm used to hitting Sammy, he's like a damn rock."

It took a moment for the half blood to understand Dean's sudden concern. Then he realized he was staring at him with a wide eyed expression and that Dean had mistaken his surprise for pain. "No, I'm fine," Castiel said softly. He didn't tell Dean he was just glad, because it was the first time Dean had initiated contact between them.

Dean gave him a peculiar look but shrugged. "Okay. So do you have friends?"

Castiel smiled at this question. Dean claimed Castiel was a figment of his imagination, something he'd created, yet he asked him questions like this. Some part of Dean knew Castiel was real and no matter how small that part was, it gave Castiel hope.

"My father," Castiel replied. "I don't get to see him very often."

"Work?" Dean asked this distractedly. Castiel smiled again when he saw Dean was now watching with great fascination as the tree's glow brightened.

Instead of answering, Castiel sent out a thought that brought a burst of shining colors flaring to life to dance across the branches. Dean started, then let out a laugh and jumped up to touch the swirling lights. The action was so sweetly child-like that Castiel felt a surge of adoration well up inside him. He didn't try to stop it, there was no point. Trying to stop an emotion in a Cherub, even a half Cherub, would have been like trying to tell the sun to stop shining.

Dean seemed to realize what he'd done seconds afterwards and sat very abruptly back down, grumbling something under his breath that Castiel couldn't hear. "I won't make fun of you," Castiel assured him. Even in dreams this man felt the need to be restrained. Was it just the way he was, or had someone molded him that way?

Dean made a dismissive noise and began poking at the ground with one finger.

Castiel glanced out through the branches to where the road would have been if he had been awake. Would Dean answer him if he asked? "Dean..." Castiel trailed off, then turned so he was facing the other man. "Where do you live?"

For a moment Dean froze. He peered intently at the dirt on his finger before suddenly wiping it off on his jeans. "Kansas," He replied shortly.

"No, what city?"

For a moment Dean didn't look at him. When he did his eyes were oddly wary. "Look, dude, considering you're my imagination I like you fine, but I'm not telling you where I live 'cause...I dunno, I just get this feeling like I'll wake up and you'll actually be there."

"Maybe I will be," Castiel replied cautiously.

Something about this answer obviously angered Dean, because his eyes darkened and he leapt to his feet but before he could open his mouth to speak his head struck one of the low hanging branches. Castiel winced when he heard the dull thud of wood connecting with Dean's skull but didn't move when Dean fell back to his knees, groaning quietly as he reached up to clutch his head.

"Are you okay?" He asked in a somewhat subdued voice.

"Fine," Dean snarled. "I just want to wake up."

Even though he knew it was pointless, Castiel felt hurt. Without thinking he reached out to Dean's consciousness and pushed, hard, casting him out of the dream. Whether or not he woke up he didn't know but he felt terrible the second Dean disappeared. He was human, Castiel reminded himself harshly. A normal human, not even a Hunter, who would have had an easier time accepting this. There was no reason for him to be hurt!

When Castiel opened his eyes there were tears in them. He reached up to wipe them away with his palm as he sat up, groaning at the stiffness in his neck and back. Once more he told himself he was being ridiculous but it did no good. The sting of Dean's rejection of his very existence lingered tauntingly in the back of his mind, ignoring all rational thought.

Wasn't it partially his own fault that Dean didn't think of him as real? As he climbed to his feet and began to walk, rubbing at his neck to ease the tension there, he wondered if telling him outright would help his situation or worsen it. If he really was in Lawrence, wouldn't it be better to wait and _show _Dean that he was real?

Over a hundred miles. That was a long time to wait.

... * ...

Dean woke up so suddenly that he smacked into his brother, who had been lying beside him in the grass. Sam made a quiet sound of protest and rolled over, away from Dean. For a moment the older brother couldn't remember where they were, then he recalled that they had decided to sleep here, right in the open, like they had as kids. He'd gone back to the car to get his cell and call John to tell him they wouldn't be home that night after they'd gone swimming, which hadn't cleared his mind like he'd hoped it would. Speaking of his mind...Dean reached up and touched his head when he realized there was a dull ache throbbing roughly in the center...

...right where it had been struck by the branch in the dream.

"No no no!" Dean leapt to his feet and looked frantically around for a rock, or anything that could explain the ache. "You just hit something when you were rolling around," He told himself. "Or Sammy got you."

Sam suddenly shifted onto his back again and as soon as he did Dean saw the distressed expression creasing his brow. Immediately, Dean forgot about the pain and dropped to his knees beside his brother, reaching out to shake his shoulder in an attempt to wake him. "Sam?"

"Jess..." Sam jerked, as if something had startled him, and one of his hands reached out as though to grasp someone. "JESS!"

"Sam, wake up!" Dean shook him again, hard, and Sam's eyes flew open, wild and frightened.

"Dean?" Sam visibly calmed when his eyes found his older brother. "What is it?"

"You were having a nightmare," Dean said as he sat back. "Kept calling for Jessica."

"Oh." Sam sat up but turned away from Dean. "Guess we should go, huh? I'm starving."

Dean frowned as Sam stood and started to walk a little too quickly towards the Impala. It was strange for Sam to brush off a nightmare like that, he was usually so talkative. Dean had always given him grief about being 'girly' for needing to talk, even if he had always listened in the end. "Okay," He muttered to himself as he stood and followed after his little brother.

Mary was just finishing breakfast when they came in. Sam went straight for Jessica, sitting down so close to her that Dean thought he looked like an over protective puppy.

"Hey Mom," Dean greeted as he came around the table to get some coffee.

"Hi sneak." She gave him a look that was meant to be annoyed but came out amused. "Did you guys have fun?"

"Yeah, was great," Dean responded, hoping he sounded sincere. The ache in his head was gone but the oddness of it was still with him. "Where's Dad?"

"Already off to work."

Dean nodded and sat down with his coffee, across from Sam. His little brother had an odd look in his eyes, intently worried yet dismissive, as though he were trying to tell himself he was being ridiculous about something. Dean watched him subtly over his coffee cup, wondering exactly what the dream had been about. He'd ask him later, he decided.

Over breakfast Sam's expression became more normal and Dean almost forgot about his resolve. It wasn't until Jessica and Mary went into the living room, leaving the two men with their coffee and the last few strips of bacon, that he remembered.

"So what was that dream about?" Dean asked as casually as he could as he snatched two pieces of bacon off the plate. Sam tried to grab the last three, resulting in the third piece being smashed to pieces when Dean tried to take it from him.

"It was nothing," Sam replied nonchalantly. He hid the other two pieces of bacon under the table before Dean could make a grab for them. "Just a nightmare. They happen."

"Yeah, but usually you want to talk about it," Dean pointed out. "I swear you can be so gay sometimes, dude."

Sam threw a napkin at him, which only made Dean laugh as he snatched the harmless white sheet from the air. "It's...it's really weird," Sam said slowly, his eyes hesitant. "I've had it before. I come back to the dorm and find her pinned to the ceiling, and then as I watch she catches fire. This is the third time in a row."

He was right, that was weird. Dean picked at the napkin as he tried to think of something to say. "You think there's a meaning behind it or somethin'?"

Sam shook his head. "No, man. It's just a dream." His voice was confident but his eyes were unconvinced.

Yeah. Just a dream. That's what he wanted to think, too, and yet the persistent presence of Cas was making him think it was something more. What if Sam's was something more, too?

Around ten 'o clock Carmen showed up to see Sam and Jessica. Dean was so distracted he almost forgot to give her a kiss when she came over to say hi. He could tell she noticed but she didn't say anything. She knew Dean well enough to know he wasn't likely to share what was going on and if he did he wouldn't do it in front of the whole family. So she went into the living room to talk to Jess and Mary after giving Dean a look that said she _would _be talking to him later, whether he liked it or not.

"My turn," Sam said suddenly, and Dean groaned quietly. Damn it, he'd noticed, too. "What's got you so distracted? You're usually all over Carmen. Kind of disturbing."

"Shut up," Dean muttered. "It's nothing. Dreams too. Kind of weird, huh?" He tried to laugh but it came out strained.

"Yeah? What are yours about?" Sam looked genuinely curious, likely intrigued by the fact that they were having a similar problem.

Dean fiddled with the napkin some more; he wasn't likely to talk to most people, not even Carmen, but Sam was different, if only because he could become so annoying that Dean would do anything to shut him up. Now, though...now he just wanted someone to know. Maybe Sam with his college education would give him some psychological explanation and everything would seem just fine.

So Dean told him everything, from the first, seemingly harmless dream to the latest. Sam listened without saying a word until Dean was done. He looked thoughtful, as though trying to come up with some kind of answer for the dreams that Dean could accept.

"You know, usually I'd just say your mind is telling you to hang out more but...Castiel? That's just too creative for you." Sam laughed when Dean threw the napkin back at him. "And the details are kind of...almost creepy. It's like this guy is real."

"I know!" Dean agreed exasperatedly. "I could swear I'm talking to a real person every time."

Sam opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again and then shook his head. "I've got nothin'," He said finally, with a helpless chuckle. "Except that we're both freaks."

"No shit, Sherlock," Dean muttered, though he laughed a little, too. "Okay, I have to get to work. I'll see you tonight."

Sam nodded and went to join the girls in the living room. Dean got out to the car and then hesitated, abruptly remembering Castiel and his curiosity about the Impala. He tried to shake the image out of his mind but it persisted, refusing to leave him alone as he drove to work and mindlessly started working on an '01 Blazer. Rob seemed to notice his agitation but didn't say anything about it, just kept giving Dean more work to do even after the Blazer was fixed. Dean welcomed anything his boss gave him, anything to keep from being consumed by the memories.

By noon he was beginning to feel more normal. He'd just settled into the Impala and was reaching for the keys to go grab some lunch when he felt a sudden jolt, as though the car had been slammed into. Dean actually started to turn to check despite the lack of noise such a collision would have caused but when he looked out of the back window he didn't see the street. Instead he saw trees, so thick the sun couldn't fully penetrate the intertwined needles. The vision seemed to come towards him, or perhaps he moved towards it, and suddenly he could hear someone panting as feet pounded rapidly against the ground. For a moment he thought he could feel his own feet moving. Panic laced through him but it wasn't his own, though it distressed him nevertheless. Whoever was running was terrified of what was behind them and Dean found himself wishing they would turn so he could see.

Then, as abruptly as it had come, the vision vanished and Dean found himself staring down the familiar street. A young woman out walking her dog gave him a peculiar look and walked a little faster as she passed the car. Dean didn't blame her. He probably looked pretty strange twisted around in his seat, gawking out the back window for no apparent reason.

Straightening, Dean turned on the car and began to drive. What...the...HELL. Was he losing it? Were the dreams some kind of prelude to a mental breakdown? What would be causing something like that? He had a great life, there was no reason for him to be cracking! Instead of heading for the cafe down the street like he'd planned the turned the car towards home. He made quick call to Rob to tell him he wouldn't be back to work today and headed straight home.

The most bizarre solution came to him as he was pulling up to the house. As he parked the car and fished his keys out of his pocket he decided that he would go to bed early tonight. If Castiel was his own creation, would he tell Dean if he was going crazy? It seemed like such a weird idea and yet, compared to the last few days, it was almost logical.

Carmen was sitting on the couch when he came in, flipping through channels, and suddenly his whole day brightened. It was Carmen's night off! To hell with sleep and crazy dreams, he had better things to do!

Flopping down on the couch next to her, Dean firmly shoved all thoughts of going around the bend out of his mind. "Anything on?"

"Nope." Carmen threw down the remote. "Not a thing."

They moved almost as one, leaping off the couch and racing towards the bedroom. Dean caught her around the waist as they reached it and they fell onto the bed together, tangled up and laughing.

... * ...

Castiel had only seconds warning before it came after him.

The demon took him by complete surprise. He'd been expecting Angels to find him, been preparing to hide from them in any way he could, but a demon? He'd felt the dark energy of it only two or three seconds before he'd seen it, leaping out of an old, banged up 60s mustang in a man's body. The half blood hadn't stuck around to see more. He'd just run, as fast as he could, even going so far as to tap into some of his Angel power to make himself go all the faster.

That had been over a mile ago, and Castiel was beginning to tire. His legs were burning, the air in his lungs felt like fire. Only the adrenaline and the fear kept him moving but soon even that wasn't enough. He could feel his legs beginning to buckle when a kind of warmth, gentle and comforting, nothing like the tired burn in his legs, surged through him. For a moment his pain was forgotten, in fact he felt as if he'd only just begun running. Not far behind him he heard a sudden scream, so inhuman it sent shivers skittering across his skin. The pain in his legs flared back to life and he fell, hard, ripping skin from his palms and arms as they struck sharp rocks sticking out from beneath layers of twigs and pine needles. The fear in him screamed to get back up but all he managed was to roll onto his back and push himself up onto his elbows. He looked around for the demon and saw him standing stock still maybe ten feet away, only...no. The demon was gone. It was just the man he had possessed. The relief of it was so great he felt all traces of energy drain away, even his arms had trouble holding him up.

The man stumbled a little as he tried to take a step forward but otherwise appeared unharmed. The demon hadn't been in him long enough to cause any real damage. Even in his current state Castiel felt a surge of relief and even smiled a little. He didn't know how the demon had been driven off and he didn't care, so long as he was alive.

"Aw, hell," The man groaned suddenly. He pulled something from around his neck and threw it angrily aside. "Damn useless piece of..." He trailed off when his eyes landed on Castiel. "Hey, you okay?"

Castiel tried to stand but his legs were shaking too badly. Before he could speak the man was rushing towards him and holding out a hand. "Here. You don't look like you're in any shape to stand."

Gratefully, Castiel accepted the hand and let the man pull him to his feet. Now that the danger was gone he was able to really look at him. He was as rough as his old car but his eyes were kind and the strength Castiel could feel in his grip was good. In a way he reminded Castiel of Dean; rough around the edges but innately a good person. "Thank you."

The man let go of his hand and shrugged. "Don't suppose you know what just happened." He said it as a statement, not a question, which made Castiel wonder if this man knew he'd been possessed.

"A demon took your body," Castiel said bluntly. There was no point in dancing around the subject. "I know it was the demon that was after me, not you, if that's what you're asking."

The man looked surprised but also somewhat relieved. "Okay. Name's Bobby, by the way."

"Castiel," he replied.

Bobby's eyebrows went up a little at the name but he merely shrugged again. "What are you doing wandering around in the woods? And what does a demon want with you? You a Hunter?"

Castiel shook his head. "No. I...I ended up here suddenly, I'm trying to get to Lawrence. I don't know why the demon came after me."

"Lawrence, hm?" Bobby glanced back towards the car, over a mile away now. He looked abruptly concerned. "Better get back to my car. You want a ride? I'm going to Lawrence."

Castiel almost declined, until he realized that he knew for sure this man was not an Angel. Angel's couldn't be possessed by demons. Which made him wonder...what had the man thrown aside?

Bobby saw him looking in the general area and rolled his eyes. "Dud charm," He said irritably. "It was supposed to keep away demons. I lost my last one and I _thought _ that was the real deal. Gonna have to pick up another."

Ah, that made sense. Many Hunters carried such charms, sometimes they even had them tatooed onto their bodies. "I could help you find a genuine charm," Castiel said as they began to walk back the way they'd come.

"Yeah? Well, no offense, but for all I know you're a nutcase. You are wandering around in the woods like an idjit."

The half blood did not take offense but he did laugh. "If you change your mind when we get there the offer stands," He said.

Bobby glanced at him as they left the trees and began to walk along the edge of the road. "Well, maybe. So if you're not a Hunter, how do you know about demons?"

Castiel considered how to answer this for some time. Bobby was obviously a Hunter and Castiel had the strangest feeling he could trust him. Besides, if he was going to tell anyone the truth, a Hunter would be the ideal person. "I'm half angel," He said finally. "That's how I know."

Bobby let out a burst of laughter; he clearly thought Castiel was joking. "That's a good one! Haven't heard that before."

Castiel smiled and said nothing more. He wasn't at all surprised that the Hunter didn't believe him. Still, it felt nice to say it outright for once. Bobby didn't question him further, apparently he'd taken Castiel's "joke" as a sign that he didn't want to discuss his knowledge of demons.

When the car came into sight Bobby let out a sigh of relief. Fortunately there wasn't much traffic, so the car parked smack in the middle of the road hadn't caused too much trouble. "Climb on in," Bobby invited as they approached the beat up vehicle.

The inside wasn't quite as bad as the outside. The seats had new covers, the radio had been replaced and it was cleaner than Castiel had expected. There was one empty fast food bag on the floor that was only a day or two old and a can of Pepsi in a drink holder. An open case of Pepsi was in the back seat. Castiel glanced at it, then at Bobby as he started the car. He seemed more like a beer drinker. Then again, maybe he was actually smart enough to not drink and drive. That wasn't always the case with Hunters, which seemed a bit strange to him. Wouldn't you want to be sober when you came up against whatever monster you happened to be chasing?

"Help yourself," Bobby said suddenly, jerking his thumb towards the back seat.

"Thank you." Castiel reached back and pulled one from the case; he was just beginning to realize how thirsty the chase had made him. Hungry, too. He hadn't eaten since yesterday but he didn't want to ask for food. Bobby was being generous enough as it was. He was pretty sure he had some money in these jeans, assuming they were the same ones he'd thrown on the table before Amor had come to get him. Topeka wasn't too far now, maybe Bobby would stop to get lunch.

"You in a hurry to get to Lawrence?" Bobby asked after a while. They had just driven into the outskirts of the city.

"No...not a huge one," Castiel replied slowly.

"Good," Bobby said simply before turning into a McDonalds parking lot.

Usually, Castiel stayed away from fast food restaurants. Not for health reasons, though he knew just how bad the food was for you, but because he _loved _cheeseburgers. Today he had little choice, so he allowed himself to indulge in his obsession. Bobby seemed amused by the amount he ordered rather than revolted as some others (his mother) had been.

"You're not hungry or anything," Bobby commented as he pulled away from the McDonalds.

Castiel tried to chuckle but it was muffled by his mouthful of burger.

In the end Castiel only ate half of what he ordered, though he wrapped the rest up tightly in the bag for later. He'd discovered another twenty in his pocket when he'd pulled it out to pay but that still only left him thirty dollars. It forced him to think about where he'd stay while he searched for Dean. He couldn't go home for more money, it was too dangerous.

"Got a specific place you want me to drop you off?"

Castiel was so lost in his thoughts he almost didn't hear the question. Shaking himself, he turned to face Bobby, who was glancing at him occasionally out of the corner of his eye. "No," He said finally. "I...don't really know where I'm going. I have to find someone and I'm not even sure if they are in Lawrence."

For a moment Bobby didn't say anything, just kept casting those quick glances at him. "You got a name?" He asked finally.

Castiel hesitated. Just because Bobby was himself now didn't mean he would be later, unless he did find a charm that really worked this time. Still, there was a risk and Castiel wasn't willing to take it. "Yes," He said carefully. "But I'd rather keep it to myself."

Bobby nodded. "I gotcha," He said easily. "There's an old abandoned house just outside of town, good place to stay if you're on the run."

On the run. Castiel hated to think of it that way but he really, truly was. This wasn't just about finding Dean and he wished to God he knew just a little of what the Angels were thinking, or the demons for that matter. "Thank you," He said simply.

He wanted to see Dean. The desire was so sudden and so intense that it almost seemed as though he could physically feel it in his chest, a sharp pain stabbing the need repeatedly into his heart. He wanted to apologize for pushing Dean away. He just wanted to see him, to be near him again, just to be close. It made him wonder what it would be like when he finally met him outside of their dreams. Would he be any different? Somehow he suspected he would be just the same. The real question was how would he react when he found out Castiel was real?

Bobby turned the car off the road suddenly, onto an old dirt one so obscured by pine needles and leaves it was almost impossible to make out. It went on for about a quarter of a mile before it disappeared into a stretch of golden field that rolled into the woods at the far end. A broken down house was set against those trees, looking ready to fall over if you so much as touched it. Still, it was a free place to stay while he looked for Dean. That was all that mattered.

"You walk about ten minutes and you'll be in the city," Bobby told him as Castiel climbed out of the car. "Good luck."

"Thank you." Castiel smiled gratefully and closed the door. Bobby gave him a short wave before he turned the car and took off the way they'd come, leaving Castiel standing there with nothing but his half bag of burgers and not a clue where to begin.

Sleep, he told himself. It wasn't that late but he was tired and maybe, just maybe, he could find the slightest indication of where to start.

The inside of the house was just like the outside; dirty, broken down and somewhat intimidating. Castiel eyed the roof doubtfully until he found the living room was fairly dust free and the couch was almost clean. Someone must have stayed here recently, he thought. He put his bag down on the floor beside the sofa, then fell back onto it, paying no attention to the dust that puffed up as his weight landed heavily against the cushions. All he cared about was sleep and the possible answers he might find there.

When unconsciousness finally came to him he dreamt of his home. He sat on the steps, staring out at the desolate front yard, and waited.

... * ...

_Made it! lol. I was having a little difficulty with this chapter. The next one is where things really get going. ^_^. Still enjoying? Please review! :-D _


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry guys! I've been trying to post this chapter since Sunday but I kept getting an error message every time I clicked 'edit'. I found a solution on yahoo: changing the word 'properties' to 'content' in the URL. (I noticed a lot of other people are having this problem so in case you're one of those people, maybe that will work for you too)_

_Onwards! Finally. X_X._

_... * ...  
_

There were rare times when Dean would lie in the dark, beside his sleeping girlfriend, and feel out of place. The feeling would come upon him suddenly, for no reason that he could ascertain. Sometimes it seemed as though he could feel it settling in his chest, a thick, heavy sensation that made him at once restless and lethargic. He would turn to look at Carmen and she would seem unfamiliar. He would look towards the nightstand, where the clock and a few random knick knacks resided, and think it strange that he saw them every night. Everything was too familiar and at once unknown to him.

This feeling would escalate until he could no longer stand it. He would get up and go outside, or flip mindlessly through channels on the TV until sleep finally took him. Tonight was one of those nights. The remote felt strangely heavy in his hand as he pressed the channel button repeatedly, his eyes blank and unseeing as the pictures flew rapidly across the screen. His earlier plan to talk to Cas was prodding at the back of his mind but his lids refused to close. _This is wrong, _a voice whispered to him, one that sounded like his own but rougher, as though the life of the person attached to it had led a much different life. _You shouldn't be here._

Then where was he supposed to be?

Sleep crept up on him slowly, so slowly he didn't really notice it pulling him down until he realized he was no longer in his living room. He was standing in a barren yard, facing an old, faded blue house. Castiel was sitting on the steps, his eyes expectant and not at all surprised when they saw him standing there. He smiled and Dean thought that smile seemed apologetic.

He was tired of fighting this. There seemed to be no point in it, anyway. So Dean walked over, sat beside Castiel on the stairs and said nothing. He just waited.

"I'm sorry," Castiel said quietly after a moment. "I didn't mean to push you out yesterday."

Dean frowned in confusion and turned to look at Cas questioningly. "Push me out?"

Castiel nodded. "I pushed you from my dream when you became angry with me. I shouldn't have."

"Oh." Was that why he'd woken so sharply? "It's okay." He shrugged and gave Cas one of his crooked smiles, something he'd often done with Sam when they were kids to show him he'd accepted an apology. "Got a question for you."

"Okay." Castiel turned a little so he was more fully facing Dean. "What is it?"

"Am I going crazy?"

The other man looked saddened by this question. He shook his head and reached out to put a hand on Dean's knee. He thought that should have bothered him but it didn't. "You're not crazy, Dean. I promise."

Strangely enough, Dean felt comforted. It was fine, everything was just fine. Maybe if he just went with it these dreams would go away on their own and he would eventually forget he ever had them.

"Let me show you something new," Castiel offered suddenly, blue eyes hopeful and intent, always intent. It amazed Dean how Castiel could let everything show right there, in plain sight, where anyone could take it and use it against him. Then he remembered; it was just a dream. Castiel was, at best, his bizarre imaginary friend.

Still. It seemed strange that he had invented someone so at ease with their own feelings.

"Alright," Dean agreed.

Castiel smiled, a little smile that appeared more in the brightness of his eyes than in the curve of his lips. He stood from the steps and held out a hand to Dean. At first Dean thought Cas was merely helping him up, so he took it easily, but when his fingers threaded through Dean's own the man became more uncomfortable. His eyes shifted uneasily from their hands to Castiel's face, then to the dirt and patches of grass at the base of the porch. "Come on, dude, this is girly."

"Dean." Castiel took a step towards him, keeping a firm grip on his hand when the other man tried to pull away. "This is affection. No one should ever be embarrassed or ashamed to show affection, nor should they be ridiculed for the manner in which they choose to show it. Besides, no one else is here."

"Well...yeah," Dean mumbled reluctantly, though his fingers slowly curled upwards to complete the threading of their hands. "Fine. What were you going to show me?"

Castiel grinned, and then the world dropped away.

Literally.

Dean let out a startled shout as all solid matter vanished, whisked away in a whirl of transparent colors. It reminded him somewhat of the wormhole he'd seen on an episode of Stargate SG-1, only it was wider, slower, and through it he could clearly see the stars. Suddenly he was glad he was holding onto Cas's hand because, dream or no, he felt that if he wasn't he would be flung away into the coalescing colors.

"This is definitely new!" Dean cried as his eyes lit with a mixture of fear and excitement. His mouth opened to release a sound somewhere between a laugh and a startled yell as the whirl abruptly ended, flattening into a bizarre path of glowing silver moonlight. It curved sharply downwards and Castiel let out a whoop as they slid sideways, faster and faster until it curved upwards and they were flung into the stars.

"Dude, we just surfed on moonlight!" Dean yelled ecstatically.

The hand in his tightened and Dean felt an arm go around his waist as they settled into a standing position, though there was nothing beneath their feet but space. This time, Dean didn't feel at all uncomfortable with the closeness. He was so high on the thrill that it felt somehow natural.

"People don't realize just how free you can become in a dream," Castiel murmured. Dean almost started when he realized the other man's mouth was right next to his ear. Almost. "How real it can feel."

Dean grinned and without thinking put a hand over the arm around his waist. "Definitely feels real."

There was a sudden silence behind him, as though Cas had stopped breathing. Then Dean felt himself being turned. One hand now rested over his hip and Dean realized he'd let his own hand slide along with Castiel's, keeping the contact that felt oddly easy. Something in him said to back away, to make another crack about being girly. Instead he met Castiel's eyes, tried to read the emotions there. Nervousness, determination, something else, something...more. Adoration?

It's just a dream, Dean told himself distantly.

Yet when Castiel leaned forward, eyes now closed as he brushed his lips against Dean's, it didn't feel like a dream. It felt so real it was almost painful.

"Dean? Dean, wake up. Sam's here."

Dean didn't just wake up. He exploded off the couch as though a bomb had detonated beneath him, the expression on his face shocked and even afraid. Carmen took a startled step back and Dean vaguely heard a laugh that sounded like Sam's.

"Carmen!" Dean's voice was so desperate he nearly squeaked. He reached out to grasp her arms and pulled her almost roughly to him. The feel of her lips against his own was as soft and perfect as it always was...but it didn't work. He could still feel the firmer, stronger brush of Cas's mouth, as persistent and stubborn as the presence of the man himself.

"Morning to you too!" Carmen giggled as Dean stepped back, oblivious to the distressed expression on his face. "Go talk to Sam, he has exciting news."

Sam. Sam was good, Sam would distract him. Except...no! He'd notice!

Dean was getting ready to make some wild excuse but Sam had already come into the living room. His eyes were bright with excitement and Dean found that, for a moment, he was able to put aside what had just happened and focus on that. "What's up?" he asked, hoping his voice sounded casual and not forced.

"I did it!" Sam announced happily. "I asked Jess and she said yes!"

"That's great." Dean reached over and slapped Sam on the back as he forced a smile onto his face. No weird dream was going to spoil this for Sammy, damn it! "So what are you doing here?"

Sam chuckled. "Ah, Jess and Mom decided you had to throw me a bachelor party. Although I don't know why we have to do it _now_, it's not like we're getting married tomorrow."

Ah ha! That meant strip club, which equaled the perfect distraction.

"That okay with you?" Dean asked, turning to Carmen and aiming his puppy eyes at her.

Carmen rolled her eyes even as she laughed; she knew exactly what Dean was thinking. "It's fine, go ahead. I'll go see Jess, congratulate her."

"Cool!" Dean whipped back around and grabbed Sam by the arm, practically dragging him towards the door. "See ya later!"

"Wait wait, where are we going?" Sam asked suspiciously as he was shoved towards the car. "And what's with you? You look freaked out about something."

"I'm fine," Dean said a little too quickly. "And you'll see."

There were several strip clubs in Lawrence but Dean's favorite was called the Paradise Lounge. It was small but fairly cheap, all things considered, and the music tended to be more varied. Sam looked like he was going to have a heart attack as soon as he saw the place; he'd never been a bar person to begin with, the only time he had gone into one was when he was seventeen and Dean had made him a fake ID.

"Ah, Dean...I don't turn twenty one until next year," Sam pointed out. "This place does have alcohol, doesn't it?"

Dean shrugged. "Yeah." He parked the car and reached into his pocket, removing his small leather wallet and waving it at Sam with a somewhat evil grin. "I still have your fake ID."

"WHAT?" Sam tried to take the wallet from him but Dean leapt out of the car and held it at arms reach. "Why do you still have that?"

"Just in case," Dean answered with another shrug. "Come on, let's go!"

"This is a bad idea," Sam mumbled but he climbed out of the car and followed Dean in anyway.

Dean's hope of staying in the club for a few hours quickly died when it became apparent that Sam was not having any fun at all, so they left and went to a regular bar a few blocks from Dean's work instead. They played pool and drank and when they were drunk enough they even went out and danced. That was when Dean got an idea which, in his beer addled mind, seemed like a perfectly reasonable one.

There were a lot of guys in the bar, some hanging out in groups, others there with their girlfriends or wives. There was even a gay couple at the end of the bar, though Dean didn't even realize it until one of them got up to leave and kissed his boyfriend goodbye. They didn't _look _gay...then again, maybe his perception was just narrow? That wasn't the point, he reminded himself. The point was...to look. Right. He needed more beer.

When Dean approached the bar he paid for another bottle, then sat down, took a long swig and looked down the bar at the other guys sitting there. The kiss in his dream was still greatly bothering him and he wanted...no, he _needed_...to know if it meant what he thought it might mean. So, one by one, he looked them all over, but when it did absolutely nothing for him he only became even more confused. If you dreamed about kissing a guy and it felt _right_, didn't that make you gay? Or at least bi? He knew he still liked Carmen and all of her girly parts and had enjoyed the strippers as much as he always did. He tried again, just to be sure. Nothing. They were just guys.

He didn't realize the man at the end of the bar had moved until he sat down again beside Dean.

... * ...

After Castiel woke up he spent nearly an hour doing one of two things; beating himself up for allowing his Cherub side to overwhelm him into kissing Dean and trying to rationalize the events of yesterday.

As he pulled a cold cheeseburger from the bag he'd moved up onto the couch he tried to set aside his foolishness and think about the whole new set of troubles he was faced with. Bobby hadn't been possessed long, a couple of hours at most. Had a demon spotted him in the city before he'd run and possessed Bobby as he was passing through? It seemed the most logical explanation, it was highly unlikely a demon had simply swept down and taken him on a hunch that Castiel would be found on that particular road. But why? He didn't even know why Uriel had come for him but demons made even less sense! And how had the demon been cast from Bobby's...

"Dean!" Castiel cried aloud, dropping the cheeseburger in a sudden burst of excitement.

_"Remember, soulmates are powerful even apart, but together they can change destiny."_

Amor had once attempted to describe soulmates to a teenage Castiel. Even when they were apart they were connected, sensing when the other was in danger or occasionally the others emotions, even if it was subconscious. Some, Amor had explained, had the ability to do what he called a Spirit Meld. He had been unable to put it into better terms than that but if Castiel understood correctly it meant that, for a few seconds, both souls would share the same body. The effect was something like the protection and banishing abilities of a pentacle, only ten times more powerful. It would explain the warmth he'd felt and how right it had been, how welcome. Had Dean been aware of it at all? Surely he must have felt something. Yes...yes, he must have! That was why he'd asked Castiel if he was going crazy! The half blood felt so excited he could hardly stand it. Now he knew it for certain; on some level, Dean was aware of his existence in reality.

Casting a distasteful glance at the burger he'd thrown to the floor, Castiel decided he'd go into town and find something better for breakfast. He might have loved the cheeseburgers on the first day but the second day, and cold no less...they just lost their appeal.

Besides, he thought cheerfully as he left the rickety old house and headed towards the road, maybe he'd find Dean today.

He found a small cafe a short ways into town, which looked far more appealing than the burgers had. He stayed there for some time, drinking coffee long after his breakfast was gone and trying to think of the best place to look for Dean. From what he'd seen of his personality he would be willing to bet that Dean liked to go to a bar after work. How many bars did Lawrence have? He didn't even want to contemplate it. Where would Dean work? As a construction worker? A mechanic? He couldn't see Dean in a desk job.

"Too many questions," Castiel murmured to himself.

He would just walk, he decided. What else could he do? He bought one more coffee to take with him, which left him just over eighteen dollars. This was shoved deep down into his pocket for later.

It was just after ten when he left the cafe. For a while he kept to the same street, subtly watching as people passed him. Occasionally his gaze would wander into a store window as he went by. After a while he turned down a different street. It led him passed a few bars, random gift shops, another cafe and an auto shop. Something made him stop there and look up at the sign: Rob's Auto Shop. It was perfectly normal looking and he obviously had no need of an auto shop, yet the feeling persisted. Well...it wouldn't hurt to ask, would it?

Slowly, Cas opened the door and stepped inside. He heard a bell above the door ring and seconds later a tall, lanky man with greasy streaks in his hair poked his head around the doorway of a tiny office. "Can I help you?"

For a moment Castiel didn't know what to say, he almost turned around and walked right back out. Then, after he told himself firmly that he was being silly, he took a few steps forward. "I was just wondering if a man named Dean works here."

The man stepped out of the office and nodded. "Yeah, he's not here today though. He should be in tomorrow if you want to come back."

That same excitement he'd felt earlier flared to life in him again. What if he hadn't asked? What would have happened? He decided he didn't care. He almost asked the man for Dean's address but decided against it. Were he in his position he certainly wouldn't give out personal information to a complete stranger.

"What time will he be here?" Castiel asked, his voice surprisingly steady considering he felt as if his emotions would overwhelm him at any moment.

The man opened his mouth to answer, frowned, then shook his head and ducked back into the office. He stuck his head around the doorway a moment later. "He comes in at eleven tomorrow. Want me to tell him to expect you?"

"No, that's alright," Castiel replied with a smile. "I want to surprise him. Thank you very much."

"No problem."

When Castiel left the auto shop he nearly let out a whoop right there in the middle of the street. He'd found him! Finally, he'd found him! Then he calmed a little as he reminded himself that he hadn't actually _met _him yet, face to face. That would be the hardest part. He only hoped Dean wouldn't react too badly. Maybe he could warn him tonight, find a way to actually...

...what was that?

Castiel felt a sudden lurch and he actually stumbled forward, as though someone had pushed him. A sense of alarm came over him but it wasn't his. He heard a gasp and felt something hard collide with his back...a wall? Through another's eyes he saw a man approaching, saw him suddenly stop and shake himself, as though he'd forgotten why he was there. Then he blinked and the street reappeared before him.

Dean, he thought. He'd just melded with Dean. But why? Who was that man and why had he been a threat to him? Was he okay? The desire to find him and discover this for himself was overwhelming but he knew there was nothing he could do, so instead he began to make his way back out of town. He could always ask what had happened tonight, he assured himself. He needed to talk to his father again as well. If they really were melding, why hadn't it happened before?

"Too many questions," Castiel muttered again with a shake of his head.

... * ...

"What part of go away do you not understand?" Dean growled over his beer bottle.

The man beside him, who had introduced himself as Cory, only smiled, as if he thought Dean's reluctance was some sort of game. "I saw you looking."

"I was looking _around_. Not at anyone!" Dean slammed his beer down onto the bar and started to stand. He didn't have to put up with this. He'd just go get Sam and they'd play some more pool.

His feet had barely touched the floor when a hand came up to press against his chest, stalling his movement. Dean tried to push passed but Cory was surprisingly strong. And he was a little drunk. "Don't you have a partner?" Dean practically snarled. The tone was a cover for the prickle of alarm teasing at the back of his neck. Dean didn't usually mix drinking and fighting, beer made him too uncoordinated for it.

"That what you're worried about? It's a loose relationship, hun, don't worry about it."

Dean thought the term 'hun' sounded really weird coming out of the guy's mouth, particularly because it was directed at _him. _"Dude, I am not gay. Back...off."

With an almost violent shove Dean was able to get passed the man's grip. He strode quickly across the room towards the pool table, where Sam had struck up a conversation with a couple other guys, but before he could reach him an iron grip locked around his upper arm. Dean didn't even have time to call out to his brother before he was being hauled out a side door and into the alley behind the bar.

Okay, now he was pissed! Dean twisted sharply, nearly breaking the grip around his arm, though the sudden action made him dizzy. He tried to lunge forward but Cory's other hand came up to lock around his other arm, trapping him firmly in place. Dean felt that sense of alarm spike through his anger, which only pissed him off all the more.

"I know your kind," The man said, his voice at once amused and a bit annoyed. "You act all clueless and outraged. You think you're the first person to pull this?"

"I'm not pulling anything, you dick!" Dean yelled, and then he thought maybe that hadn't been the best choice of insult. "Get the hell off me!"

Cory shoved him. Dean let out a grunt as his back collided with the brick wall. His head snapped back and struck the solid surface, sending a sharp surge of pain swirling behind his eyes. He saw Cory coming towards him and suddenly, out of the blue, he remembered Castiel's lips against his. For just a second he thought he could feel the soft brush of them, then a strange warmth spread through him, comforting and...welcome, somehow. He looked again at the other man and saw him stop, his eyes clouding with confusion as he shook his head as though to clear it. Then he muttered something about too much beer and walked out of the alley, apparently completely forgetting all about the man he'd just tried to force himself on.

"Dean!" The door burst open so suddenly that it crashed against the wall. The rush of conversation and music that fled from the opening hit Dean with the force of a rock. He felt sick, he realized, but he didn't understand why. "Dean!"

A wide eyed, worried gaze came into his line of vision as Sam reached out to grasp Dean's shoulders, just above where Cory's grip had likely left bruises. Sam's grip was familiar, safe even, and Dean felt the nauseous sensation begin to ease away. Had it just been a combination of beer and adrenaline? "I'm okay, Sammy," Dean murmured suddenly.

"What happened?" Sam started to slide an arm around Dean's shoulders but the man pushed himself off the wall and began to walk on his own. Sam followed him, appearing relieved when it seemed Dean was alright rather than offended when his help was brushed aside.

"Some guy decided I was eyeing him and..." Dean trailed off, his eyes darting around uncomfortably as they walked back inside the bar.

Sam snorted, which he immediately followed with a cough in an attempt to hide it. "Shut up!" Dean reached over and shoved his little brother but Sam only grinned.

"Aw, poor Dean!" Sam laughed and leapt back to avoid being clocked when Dean glared at him. "Why didn't you just hit him or something?"

"Beer," Dean said simply. He considered telling Sammy what had almost happened but decided against it. "Doesn't matter, he's gone. Come on, lets play some more pool."

Two in the morning saw them stumbling from the bar, clinging to each other for support to keep from falling. Dean was by far worse than Sam; at least his little brother could stand up straight. Dean couldn't _see _straight, much less stand upright.

"Dean," Sam whispered; he had this strange need to be quiet when he was drunk, like he was trying to keep it a secret. "Dean...where's the car?"

"Screw the car," Dean mumbled. He had just enough sense to fumble for his cell but once he had it out of his pocket he couldn't make heads or tails of the damn thing. "Sammy, here." He thrust the phone up towards Sam's face. "Call somebody."

"Call somebody," Sam repeated as he took the cell phone, and then he giggled like it was the silliest thing he'd ever heard. Had Dean been in a more sober frame of mind he would have teased him for giggling. Guys don't giggle, he told himself with a nod.

An extremely sleepy John answered the phone. Dean could vaguely hear his voice as Sam told him that they were drunk, which he stated so clearly that for a second Dean thought maybe he'd sobered up, but then he started snickering uncontrollably and had to cling even more tightly to Dean to keep from falling. A muffled laugh came through the phone, then Dean heard John say he'd be there in a minute.

"Okay. Dad's coming," Sam announced as he shut the phone and handed it back to Dean. "I think I'm going to fall down."

"Yeah, me too," Dean agreed. The pavement was starting to spin and he was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be doing that.

Somehow, they managed to stay on their feet until John pulled up. He laughed at them as he got out of his car and helped them into the back seat. Sam ended up sprawled across most of the seat with his feet stuck out near the door, so Dean tripped over him as he tried to get in and ended up partially draped across his waist. John's laughter increased to something close to hysterical as he shut the door and got back into the drivers seat. Dean briefly considered sitting up but decided it wasn't worth it. Besides, Sammy didn't seem to care.

Dean was almost asleep when someone began pulling on his arm. "Go 'way," he mumbled irritably, waving a hand towards whoever was trying to get him up.

"Dean, get up," John chuckled. "We're home. You shouldn't have let Sam get drunk."

"Mmph!" Dean protested, but he let John pull him upright and out of the car. "Sammy's fine."

Sam was dead to the world asleep when John climbed in to try and get him out. Nothing he did would wake him, so finally he grabbed an arm and simply hauled Sammy out of the back seat. Dean went to help and found his feet were a little steadier, though his vision was still doing strange things.

"We'll just put him on the couch," John said quietly as they carried him into the house. "I'm not carrying him upstairs."

"Me neither," Dean agreed sleepily.

The two dumped Sam unceremoniously onto the couch. He never woke up, not even when they rearranged him so he wouldn't fall off. Dean swiped a pillow from under his feet and promptly flopped onto the carpet; he didn't care where he slept, he just wanted to fall into oblivion before facing the hangover waiting for him in the morning.

When Dean slipped into unconsciousness there were no forests or rivers or blue houses with bare yards. He was surrounded by a black, smoke like substance, so thick he could see nothing else. Fear bloomed so sharply in his chest that he couldn't breathe; this wasn't the first time he'd been here. Since Sam's birth he'd had this nightmare, always the same one. Wide eyes stared out into the writhing black as he wished desperately he could wake up. Any minute now...he'd be here...

Something moved in the black, the shape of a man. Dean tried to move but as always he was frozen, held in place by the strange smoke. He could hear laughter around him, twisted, cruel laughter, and then the man stepped into his sight.

"Sammy!" Dean cried.

Sam stood there, in a white suit, the small smile on his face not his own. Sam's smile wasn't cold or cruel, like the laughter that echoed around them, sealing them in a pocket of fear. Wake up, Dean told himself desperately. It's just a dream, wake up!

"You always fight," he said, his tone darkly amused. "When will you except that this is inevitable?"

Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream...Dean repeated the comforting mantra over and over, silently, as he closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at the stranger in his brother's form. It had been nearly a year since the last one, why had it come back now? Suddenly he missed Cas, so badly it almost hurt. As strange as those dreams were, at least Castiel was his friend.

"Dean!"

Cas? Dean opened his eyes; the voice was distant, hidden somewhere in the smoke. "Cas!" he called back frantically. This was different. Nothing about this dream ever changed, yet there he was, this persistent figment of imagination, calling Dean's name again.

The stranger in Sam's form looked surprised. The blackness around them began to writhe all the more fiercely, as though responding to his mood. His eyes narrowed and he waved a hand distractedly towards the smoke. It pulsed and Dean heard a strange scream before it disappeared. There were chains around Dean's wrists that extended into the floor, an old, rotting floor that belonged to a broken down building Dean had never seen before. A glance out a nearby window told him it was several stories high. The sky outside was dark with gray rain clouds, threatening to soak the people Dean could see going about their day on the street below. Everything seemed...normal. It frightened Dean far more than the black smoke had. At least that had seemed like just a nightmare his mind had concocted, no matter how much it repeated itself. This...this felt too much like reality.

"Cas!" Dean abruptly called again. The man that looked like Sam turned to stare at him sharply but Dean only glared defiantly at him.

"Enough of this," he snarled suddenly. His hand snapped out towards Dean but before the man could so much as steal himself for any kind of pain a bright, bluish white light flooded the room. The man in Sam's form dropped his hand, his eyes widening with surprise as he looked upon a man Dean couldn't see through the light.

When the light finally began to recede Dean saw Cas standing in front of the window. His eyes were narrow with anger, his breathing as harsh as though he'd been running a long time. His fists were clenched, his legs spread in a stance that said he was prepared to fight, and stretching out from his back were two white wings. They seemed to fill the room, reflecting the glow shining from Castiel's body so that they appeared so blindingly pure Dean found it hard to look at them. Wings...why did Cas have wings?

The stranger in Sam's form smiled again, a bizarre mix of contempt and softness. "Can you use those wings, little Cherub?" he asked with a cold laugh.

Castiel smirked, an expression Dean thought looked strangely wrong on his face. "I can here!"

The glow filled the room again, so bright that Dean cried out and threw his hands up to cover his face, hardly noticing that the chains had fallen away from his wrists. He heard the man in Sam's form scream, with Sammy's voice, nearly driving Dean to risk the light to run to his brother's aid. He heard Cas calling out to him again but it was distant and faint. When he let his hands fall from his eyes the light was gone, as well as the building, the city, everything. There was only darkness and Castiel's rapidly shrinking form in the distance. He was waking up.

"Dean!" Castiel reached for him, his eyes wide and desperate. "Dean! I am not your imagination! I'm real!"

... * ...

_I have to tell you, looking up strip clubs in Lawrence felt so very weird. lol. ^_^. There are a lot of them, too. I found this site with reviews for all these clubs in and around Lawrence and went through and read them until I found one that seemed to work best. I changed the name a little just because I wasn't sure if that would be a big deal or not. Probably not, but better safe than sorry. ^_^. Since I left this on a cliff hanger I'll try to update quickly. It just seemed like such a perfect place to end it. Hope you're still enjoying! _


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry guys! I've had a few crazy weeks so I've only been able to work on this in pieces. I had a hard time with this chapter, too, making the transition from dream to reality was harder than I thought it would be. X_X. Go figure. lol. _

_... * ..._

_"I am not your imagination. I'm real!"_

Dean sat with his back against the couch, the pillow he'd used last night set in his lap as he fiddled restlessly with the tassels. Sam was in the kitchen getting them coffee. They'd woken up that morning with twin head aches from hell, which had worked out in Dean's favor; Sam had assumed Dean's distress and oddly quiet demeanor were simply due to his hangover.

_I'm real!_

The words wouldn't stop echoing in his mind. He could still see the bright, white wings as they stretched from Cas's back, the desperation in his eyes as he tried to reach out to Dean even as he was returning to consciousness. I'm real, he'd said. I'm real. Was it possible? Could Castiel be real? He wasn't sure which was stranger, the idea of Cas being real...or the fact that he wanted to believe it.

Sam came back in carrying two steaming cups. He sank down onto the floor beside Dean and passed him one, which Dean took gratefully. "How's your head?" Sam asked as he took a small sip.

"Great, just great," Dean replied sarcastically. "Yours?"

"I'm probably better off than you," Sam replied with a quiet chuckle. "I didn't drink nearly as much."

"You don't have to go to work, either," Dean grumbled. He took a large gulp of coffee, barely managing to contain a yelp when the hot liquid scalded his tongue.

Sam laughed at that, then raised a hand to his head and winced when all it did was make his head ache worse. "Ow. Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean responded automatically, smiling a little at the familiarity of it.

Sam soon got up to join the rest of the family for breakfast but Dean stayed, absently turning the coffee cup around and around in his hand as he stared sightlessly out the window._ I'm real, I'm real..._With a muffled growl Dean set his cup on the floor and stood, ignoring the flare of pain that caused small spots of color to dance across his vision. He walked to the window and rested his forehead against it, watching as his breath fogged up the glass. _I'm real, I'm real..._

When Dean had awoken from the dream, the nightmare that had never changed before Castiel, he'd still been able to hear his name being called out, still been able to see Cas's eyes, wide with desperation, as he tried to reach for Dean. His heart had been racing and it had nothing to do with the usual fear that followed the nightmare. It had been excitement. For a reason he couldn't grasp, Dean wanted Castiel to be real. He wanted to walk out the door and find him standing on the sidewalk, waiting for him. For a moment he thought he could feel Castiel's breath rushing warmly across his lips as he leaned in to kiss him. Why? Why did he want Castiel to be real after something like that?

At ten o'clock Dean remembered that the Impala was still parked at the bar. It would only take him thirty minutes or so to walk to work but he thought maybe the fresh air would help him clear his head. He slipped out the front door quietly, without saying goodbye to anyone, walking slowly to give himself plenty of time to try and sort through his thoughts, or to attempt to banish them.

_I'm real, I'm real..._

It wouldn't leave him alone, no matter how many times he tried to tell himself it was just a dream.

He still had twenty minutes to kill when he arrived at the auto shop, so he walked on by to check on his car. It was right where he'd left it, safe and whole. He dug through his pocket for his keys; there was no reason not to drive it back to the shop since he was here. When Dean didn't immediately find them he began to pull things out; a half eaten snickers bar, some old wrappers, his wallet. Where had he put them? His jeans pocket, maybe?

He was reaching in to check when he heard rapid footsteps behind him. Someone was running? _Probably just someone out jogging, _he told himself, yet he turned to look anyway.

_I'm real, I'm real._

No. No no no no NO! He was still asleep. He hadn't actually woken up yet. Any moment Sam would reach down and shake him awake, or his Dad would hand him a cup of coffee. Yeah...that was it. He was still dreaming. To prove it to himself he tried to change something, anything, around him.

Nothing happened.

"Shit!" Dean blurted, because what else was he supposed to say? Castiel was running down the sidewalk at him...and he was wide awake!

When Castiel stumbled to a halt before him he did not say hi, or smile as he always did in the dreams. His eyes were wide with fear and adrenaline as they darted wildly around, as though certain that at any moment they would see something terrible. "I told you I was real now get your keys!" Castiel panted, speaking so quickly that it almost came out as one long, jumbled word.

Dean didn't move. He stood there, staring, his jaw hanging open in a way that might have been comical in any other situation. His hand stayed frozen in his pocket, just touching the cool metal of the keys. "Cas?" He said finally, his voice a thin, shocked whisper.

Instead of answering, Cas reached over and pulled Dean's hand from his pocket. When his hand plunged into Dean's jeans the man finally reacted. "Hey hey hey!" He yelped, whacking Castiel's hand away and taking several steps back. "What the hell?"

"Get your keys!" Castiel repeated frantically. "If you don't get your damn keys we're going to get killed!"

That made him move. Deciding he'd ask questions after they were in the car, Dean yanked his keys from his pocket and leaped into the Impala. Castiel climbed in the other side, his eyes scanning the road as he pulled the door closed. "That way!" He said shortly, waving his hand down the road that led away from the auto shop.

Dean didn't ask, he just started the car, put it in drive and slammed on the gas.

They'd been driving ten minutes or so when Cas let out a relieved sigh and leaned back in the seat, his eyes closed as his body relaxed. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't want our first meeting to go like that."

Dean's knuckles were white from gripping the wheel too hard. He stared with eyes still full of shock out the front window, hardly noticing the cars and homes as they flew by in brightly colored blurs. Questions flooded his mind and almost none of them had anything to do with the unseen danger the other man seemed so afraid of. "How long have you..._how?"_

"I've always known," Castiel responded to the unfinished question. He didn't open his eyes. "I've been able to feel you since I was very young. That first dream you had of me, by the river, was the first day I was able to connect with you. How? You saw how in your nightmare."

"What happened in the first dream?" Dean asked sharply. That part of him that wanted to believe was nagging at the back of his mind but a larger part doubted. He needed proof.

"I found you by the river near my house. You must have been able to feel me too, on a subconscious level, otherwise I don't think you would have found that place. You said my name was strange and I told you my Mother wanted me to seem angelic. You told me I was a stranger and I said if you got to know me I wouldn't be a stranger anymore. Before you woke up I asked if you knew me." Castiel opened his eyes. He didn't sit up but he rolled his head to the side to look at Dean, his expression deadly serious and tentatively hopeful. "You like to fish, not to catch anything, just because it's peaceful. You're twenty four years old, your favorite color is brown. You're very close to your younger brother Sam. Outside of family, this car is your life. If you turn the heater on it rattles because you stuffed legos into it when you were nine. Sam forced a G.I Joe into the back door when he was six."

For a long time Dean didn't say anything. The houses began to thin out and when he realized this he pulled the car over and turned it off, though his eyes flicked nervously towards the rear view mirror despite the fact that he had no idea what they had just run from. Slowly, he twisted around in his seat, meeting Castiel's eyes almost reluctantly.

"You don't like to fish," Dean said quietly, fearfully. "You're twenty three, your favorite color is blue, your best friend is your Dad. You spilled food coloring on the rug when you were younger, you never said what age you were. You don't know how to drive. You like to swim and you said someday maybe you'd teach me to swim better."

Dean fell silent and for several long moments neither spoke another word. They just looked at each other, Dean slowly beginning to accept and Castiel calm, so calm that Dean was almost jealous. Calm was the last thing from his mind just then.

"You're real," Dean murmured finally, softly, as though the words would solidify this fact.

Castiel smiled, just a little. "I'm real," He repeated quietly.

Slowly, Dean reached out a hand, knowing he wouldn't fully accept this as reality until he touched the other man, yet his hand froze half way. Castiel reached up and threaded their fingers together, just as he had in the dream. His hand was warm and strong and so very, painfully real.

"Shit," Dean repeated with a short, near hysterical laugh. "Wait, what do you mean I saw how in my nightmare?"

Castiel didn't say a word. Instead he began to glow, just as he had in the dream, though the light was fainter, more gentle. He could just see the outline of wings, shadows flickering against the seats, the windows...Dean tried to yank back his hand and this time Castiel let him go.

"I'm half angel, half Cherub to be precise," Castiel explained. He settled his hand in his lap and Dean thought he saw a flash of hurt before it was smothered by understanding. "Most of my powers are based around l-emotion, that's how I was able to find you. It's...also why I kissed you, before...controlling emotions in a Cherub is nearly impossible. I apologize if I startled you."

"_Startled me_?" Dean repeated incredulously. "Dude, what the hell? Why would you want to kiss me anyway!"

Castiel opened his mouth to answer, then seemed to think better of it. He remained silent a moment, watching Dean with thoughtful eyes, before he finally spoke. "Not yet," He said carefully. "That will take too much time to explain. We don't have that time now. Where is Sam?"

The mention of his brother's name banished all other thoughts from Dean's mind as easily as an eraser cutting through words. "What about Sam?" he asked quickly.

"He's in danger," Castiel answered. "So is his girlfriend, for that matter. Do you know where he is?"

"Yeah, but what's going on?" Dean's eyes narrowed at the other man suspiciously.

"I'll explain when we see Sam," Castiel assured him. "That way I can explain it to you both. I promise, I am not the one you have to fear, Dean."

Dean relaxed almost immediately and felt ridiculous the moment he did. Why did he believe him so easily?

"Anything even starts to happen to Sam and I swear I'll kill you," Dean promised quietly as he started the car.

Castiel sat up a little straighter, as though the words had startled him. An unreadable expression clouded his blue eyes as they studied Dean's serious face.

"I believe you."

... * ...

_Look away._

Castiel told himself this, over and over, as they drove down the street, as buildings and people flew by the window unnoticed, yet no matter how many times he thought it he had eyes only for Dean. _What if you're making him uncomfortable? What if he doesn't want you to look at him? _Cas tried to listen, he really did, but it didn't make a difference. He couldn't look away. He was _here. _He was sitting right beside him, real, physical...and he wasn't flinging Castiel out of the car. Occasionally a smile would flit across the half blood's face and it always seemed that Dean would glance at him at that exact moment. Once Castiel thought he saw a smile start on Dean's lips but it was gone before he could confirm it.

When Dean finally pulled off the road a curiously surprised expression abruptly clouded his eyes. "Is that...?"

"What is it?" Castiel asked, the first words he'd spoken since they began driving again.

Dean grinned. "It is!" He shouted. He burst out of the car without answering, not even looking back to see if Cas was following as he raced towards the house.

More slowly, Castiel climbed out of the car. There was another car parked a few feet before them, an old mustang that looked familiar. Was it Bobby's? If it was than his possesion...what if that had nothing to do with himself? What if it had been about Sam and Cas had simply been a unexpected find along the way? If that was the case...how did a Hunter know a family like this?

Too many questions...it seemed the last few days had been built from them.

The front door had been left open, though whether that was from excitement or because Dean was letting him know he could follow him inside he didn't know. He sighed a little to himself as he approached the door slowly; what had he expected? For Dean to be happy to see him? Dean was a regular man, he was right to be shocked by a dream becoming reality. He tried to grasp the feeling he'd had seconds before Dean had pulled up to the house but it was already lost.

As he passed the threshold he heard laughter, the warm, happy laughter of friends being reunited. A doorway that led into a spacious living room revealed a small group of people, most of them crowded together, though two young women stood off to the side. Whether or not Bobby was one of them he couldn't tell, they were too close together. Castiel stood still as he stared through that doorway, for the first time feeling the sharp, cold stab that told him he was still a stranger, still an outsider. Dean knew him and yet he didn't. He accepted the reality of him but he hadn't really accepted his presence. The half-blood told himself he knew this was how it would be, at least for a while, but the sting of it remained, a constant reminder at the back of his mind.

A tall young man Castiel recognized as Sam abruptly looked up from the group, as though he had sensed the eyes watching them. He peered at Cas curiously for a moment, then broke away from the others and approached him with a smile so friendly that Cas felt some of the cold ease away from him.

"Hi, are you a friend of Dean's?" Sam asked when he reached the other man.

Castiel had no idea how to answer the question. He wanted to say yes but knew it wasn't true. "I'm...not yet," He finally replied haltingly. "You're Sam, aren't you?"

Sam nodded. "Don't believe a word my brother tells you, it's all lies!" He said loudly. Cas saw Dean abruptly turn and glare at him, then seemed to start when he saw Cas standing there. So he had forgotten him. Castiel bit back a sigh as their eyes met; had their meeting really meant so little to him?

When Dean turned to walk towards them Castiel saw it was indeed Bobby at the center of the group. He looked up too as Dean walked away, his eyes widening briefly with surprise, then almost immediately narrowing with intrigue. Castiel nodded to him and, after a pause, Bobby nodded back before returning to his conversation with the others in the room.

"You just keep telling yourself that, Sammy," Dean said with a chuckle, though Castiel thought it sounded strained. His eyes flicked up to the half blood's, then towards the door. Castiel nodded once, silently acknowledging Dean.

"We need to talk for a minute," Dean said quietly to Sam. He put a hand on Sam's arm and led his unresisting younger brother towards the door. Castiel saw confusion in his eyes but also trust, allowing him to follow Dean with ease despite his curiosity.

"What's up?" he asked once they were all standing outside.

Castiel flicked his eyes towards the still open door but decided it was unlikely their conversation would reach through to the living room. "You should explain this first, Dean," He murmured, gesturing between them.

The other man gave a single nod. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and shuffled his feet uncomfortably as Sam glanced curiously at Cas, then back to Dean. "Remember the dreams I told you about, Sammy?" Dean said finally. When Sam nodded he continued. "That's...ah hell, that's Cas."

"Cas...wait, you mean the Castiel you were dreaming about?" Sam said incredulously, his gaze flicking to the half blood once again. A half smile began to form on his face. "Oh ha ha, very funny Dean," He chuckled. "How gullible do you think I am?"

"He's telling the truth," Castiel said quickly, before Sam could delude himself into thinking it was just a prank. "Dean and I share a...a connection, that's why we were able to share dreams."

Sam's smile faded. He glanced at Dean again as a skeptical look began to form in his eyes. "Okay...let's say I believe you. Why did you need to talk to me?"

Dean had lifted his eyes from his feet and was now watching Castiel intently. He took a side step closer to his brother, an unconsciously protective gesture. Castiel watched this with a distant sense of jealousy; what would it have been like to have a sibling? To have that connection of blood and mind, that closeness? He felt again the cold stab of being left on the outside, a sharp edged knife driving reality into him with the freezing harshness of ice. Focus, he told himself. Do what must be done before worrying about anything personal.

"Because you're in danger," Castiel said finally, bluntly, deciding it would be better to get straight to the heart of the matter. "As is Jessica."

At this Sam rolled his eyes and reached over to cuff Dean on the back of the head. The man started at the sudden contact and smacked his brother back. "Hey! The hell was that for?" He barked.

"Isn't this going a little far even for you?" Sam asked with a chuckle.

"This isn't a joke, Sam!" Dean cried. Castiel started at the resigned and almost angry tone in his voice. "How do you think I felt this morning when I turned around and saw a dream running towards me? When I found out not only is he real but I kind of know him, and he knows me! It was...it's..." Suddenly, Dean turned towards Cas, his expression narrow and dark. "Invasive," He finished quietly.

The half blood felt a near physical pain lance through him at these words, even as he tried to tell himself he should have expected something like this. Dean was afraid, and he wasn't the type of man to take fear easily, so he was building himself a wall of anger to hide behind. Castiel looked away, a little afraid himself to meet his accusing stare. Was he right? Had he invaded Dean's mind without thinking it through first?

"Okay..." Sam said slowly, his gaze darting uncertainly between the two. "How is that even possible?"

"Later," Castiel said quickly. "Do you know where Jessica is?"

"Yeah, she's inside," Sam answered, gesturing towards the house. "Why?"

Castiel opened his mouth to answer but the words died in his throat. For a moment he floundered, unable to form any kind of sentence. It had seemed simple, until he realized he already knew about demons and angels and everything else that shared the world with humanity. Sam and Dean knew nothing about any of it. Where did he even start?

"I think we should go somewhere," Castiel said finally, daring to look over at Dean. His expression was still dark but when their eyes met he nodded once.

"We'll go to my place," Dean said. "Carmen will be here for a while, it should be fine."

Sam and Dean were moving towards the car while the name punched Castiel right in the gut. Was that..."Your girlfriend?" Castiel blurted.

"Yeah. My _girlfriend_." Dean stressed it so hard that Sam gave him a curious look.

"Will Jess be okay?" Sam asked as they climbed in the car.

Cas sat numbly in the back seat, his eyes vacant as they stared sightlessly at the back of Dean's head. "She should be fine for now..." he murmured vaguely.

Dean had a girlfriend. Of course he had a girlfriend! He was gorgeous, stable, had a great car...why did he keep setting himself up for these kinds of falls? He should have known that Dean wouldn't be thrilled to see him, that he would have a girlfriend...

_I wish Dad was here._

The half blood remained in a daze throughout the ride. He remembered sitting down in a small, dark living room but did not remember speaking, didn't even really know he had until he realized Dean and Sam were standing in the kitchen, discussing in low voices whether or not Castiel was insane. That he had expected. Most humans had a hard time with the supernatural, particularly when it was malevolent.

"Sam," Castiel called.

The younger man looked up from the conversation that was growing rapidly more heated, looking relieved to have a distraction. "Yes?" He spoke carefully, which suggested he was leaning towards insanity rather than truth.

As soon as he was sure he had Sam's attention Castiel released his glow, just as he had with Dean. He made certain his wings were visible, more so than they had been in the car. They shone a gentle white, spreading out behind him so clearly they almost seemed physical. Dean turned away but Sam's eyes flew wide with awe. Slowly, as though in a trance, he stepped into the living room and reached out towards one of the wings, his fingers shaking as they brushed through the celestial energy. As he did Castiel felt a strange jolt, as though a powerful energy had just surged into him.

"You're a believer." Castiel's surprise was evident as he met Sam's eyes.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, nodding slowly as he threaded his fingers through the tangible energy washing warmly over his skin. "This...this is amazing. I never thought...Wow. I'm so sorry I didn't believe you."

Castiel let the glow fade almost reluctantly; he'd never felt the touch of a believer but Amor had told him stories of how it could empower an Angel, how it could strengthen them tenfold. It was one of the reasons Cherubs mingled so often with humans. They welcomed the power their joining brought, while the more powerful Angels tended to scorn it. "Don't be sorry. You're human. I'm half human, too."

Sam let his hand drop as he whirled about to face Dean, who was now standing in the doorway with a strange, unreadable expression on his face. "Dean! He's half angel!" he cried excitedly.

"Yeah. I know," Dean said quietly.

Something had changed. Castiel could sense a lessening in the anger Dean had hidden himself behind as his eyes lingered on his younger brother. The acceptance he had glimpsed before in the car was making a hesitant reappearance. For a moment Castiel wondered what had caused it, and then he realized it was Sam and his own acceptance of Cas. Watching his little brother react to the half blood had changed his own perception.

He was so preoccupied with watching Dean that he didn't see Sam tense up beside him. All he saw was the abrupt, alarmed widening of Dean's eyes as Sam let out a gasp of pain and collapsed.

... * ...

"Sammy!" Dean cried as his little brother began to convulse. Sam's arms came up to cover his head, as though seeking to protect himself from an unseen danger. "SAMMY!"

He didn't remember moving but one moment he was in the kitchen doorway and the next he was kneeling beside Sam, his hands moving frantically over his arms and back, as though the contact would snap him from his pain. Castiel knelt beside him, his eyes a contradiction of worry and calm. He, too, put a hand on Sam, right beside Dean, and left it there until Sam went suddenly limp, eyes closed, sucking in air as though he'd never get enough of it.

"Sam? What did you see?" Castiel asked gently as the other man slowly opened his eyes.

Dean's worried gaze rose from his brother's still form at Cas's words. "See?" he repeated, confusion plain in his voice. Castiel cast him a look that clearly said 'wait.'

"I...ow..." Sam slowly sat up, letting Dean support him with one arm. "I saw someone...burning. But I didn't see any fire anywhere. I mean, it didn't look like he did it to himself and there wasn't anyone else around."

"What just happened?" Dean asked loudly, staring not at Sam but at Cas. He didn't care if Castiel wanted him to wait. He needed answers and he needed them now.

"I'd kinda like to know that, too." Sam winced and lifted a hand to his head.

"Sam has demon blood in him," Castiel said bluntly. "Azazael infected him with it when he was an infant. He infected a lot of children but Sam's special. I don't know why. For some reason he's more powerful than the others."

"Others?" Sam repeated. His eyes were growing wide with fear, kicking Dean's big brother instincts into overdrive. No one scared his little brother!

"This isn't funny, Cas," Dean fairly growled, leaning protectively over Sam as he faced Castiel with dangerous eyes.

"Of course it isn't funny!" Castiel snapped. "Sam is a good man! He should never have been faced with something like this. But he is faced with it, and you need to accept that if you want to help him!"

Almost immediately, Dean relaxed. It was strange. Normally if someone had spoken to him like that he would have fought back, or been angry. Instead he felt a sudden flare of respect for Cas and at the same time, he felt more at ease. Some of the anger he'd been feeling towards the half blood began to recede as he sat back, away from Sammy, and nodded once, letting Castiel know he was listening.

The half blood's expression softened and he smiled apologetically. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

Dean shrugged, his way of saying it was alright. "Okay, Cas. Tell us what's going on."

So Castiel did. Unlike the first time, when he'd told them of all the supernatural creatures, he was fully aware as he explained the war between angels and demons, Azazael and the children he had infected with his blood. By the time he was done Dean felt as though he had entirely abandoned reality, as though he'd leapt into an alternate universe where this sort of thing was just a part of every day life.

And then he realized, with sharp, sickening clarity, that it would be from now on. There was no escaping knowledge like this.

Sam had realized it, too. They stared at each other a long moment, each knowing that their lives had just been altered in a way they could never take back but not knowing what to say to that. So they just looked at each other, let the reality of it sink in, until they both felt they could keep going.

"So, what kind of Angel are you?" Sam asked suddenly. There was a need in his eyes for a distraction, as well as a very intent curiosity. "I mean, there are different types, aren't there?"

Castiel nodded. "Guardian angels, archangels, just plain angels, cherubs. They all have different tasks. I'm half Cherub. Cherubs are what human myth has mistaken for Cupid. All their power is focused on and comes from love." He turned to Dean suddenly, nervously. "That's how I was able to find you. Because my soul loves yours."

_What? _Dean stared at Castiel as though he'd just spoken another language. The hell did that mean? "That doesn't make any sense," Dean muttered too quickly. He felt the irrational fear that had begun after he'd accepted Cas as real spike in him, prodding at the anger he'd only just begun to get rid of. "So, this vision, what do we do about it?"

The half blood sighed slightly but let Dean change the subject. "Unless Sam can tell us where this vision took place, nothing."

"I have no idea," Sam answered with a helpless shake of his head. "It was dark. It looked like a city street, maybe. But I didn't see any signs or anything that would help."

Before Dean could ask what the hell visions were for if you couldn't do anything about them there came a sudden knock at the door. It was a strange knock, soft and hesitant, as though the knocker wasn't sure if it was being done correctly. Instantly, Castiel was off the floor and running for the door, which struck Dean as a little strange. It was his place, he should be answering the damn door!

"Cas!" Dean yelled, picking himself up from the floor and helping Sam up as well.

Castiel either ignored him or didn't hear him. He practically ripped the door off it's hinges and made wild gestures at whoever was outside to come in. It was a man who looked very much like Cas, especially his eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a black tee, though he kept pulling at the clothing as though unused to it's presence.

"What is it?" Castiel asked quickly, as soon as he had the door closed.

"It's the...OH! DEAN!" Without warning the man flung himself across the room and threw his arms around Dean's neck, hugging him so tightly that Dean's immediate reaction was to get away. The man was stronger than he looked, though, because no matter how much Dean squirmed he couldn't escape the hug.

"Dad!" Castiel came up behind the man, laughing as he pulled him back from Dean. "He's not that comfortable with closeness." He looked a little sad as he said this and Dean felt a ridiculous urge to reach over and touch Cas, just to reassure him. It snuck up on him abruptly and he dismissed it with the same swiftness that he had Castiel's comment about souls.

"Dad?" Dean repeated suddenly. "Wait wait...are you the angel?"

The man nodded exuberantly. "My name's Amor. I'm so happy to meet you! Castiel has told me all about you, I just hope you aren't being too human about this situation. Oh, but if you are he'll help you sort it out. I'm talking to much. Sam!" With that he bolted passed Dean and into the living room, where Sam stood staring with wide eyes at the bouncy angel.

"Too human?" Dean repeated quietly to Cas.

Cas smiled, though the expression was decidedly sad. "He knows you're straight."

Dean started to say something, then closed his mouth. What was he supposed to say to that? That it was true?

"I think we need to rescue Sam," Dean muttered. He turned, prepared to be amused by his brother's plight, only to be struck with a very different emotion instead. Amor had pulled Sam down so that his head rested against one shoulder, one hand around his back and the other stroking his hair. It struck him as completely bizzare at first, until he saw that Sam was shaking, that Amor was holding Sam the way someone might hold another they care about while they comforted them.

"It's because Sam is a believer," Castiel explained quietly. "Angels have a more profound effect on those who truly believe in them. It wasn't as powerful with me because I'm only half. His power probably made Sam feel any fear he was concealing from us before, as well."

"Sam's not as jumpy about being touched, too," Dean added just as quietly. "What exactly does believer mean, anyway? He's not religious."

"He doesn't have to be," Cas replied. "It just means he believes in some kind of a Creator and that he has faith in beings like us." The half blood sighed suddenly, almost angrily. "A lot of Angels take that for granted. They don't understand that mingling makes them stronger."

That made about as much sense as the one soul loving another to Dean, so he said nothing about it. He made a jerky gesture towards the living room and Cas gave a nod of understanding. Softly, the two walked into the room and stood behind Sam and Amor, until Sam opened his eyes and seemed to become suddenly embarrassed by their presence. Amor let him go easily but left a hand on Sam's shoulder as he turned to face the other two.

"It's not just Sam," Amor said. "The other childrens' powers are manifesting as well. I think Sam's vision was of one of those children. A man who can bend fire lives a few miles from here."

"Wait, how do you know about Sam's vision?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"I let him look," Sam said before Amor could respond. "He touched my head and just...knew!"

Amor smiled and suddenly leaned over to rest his head on Sam's shoulder. "I haven't been around a believer in so long!" He said with a happy sigh. Then he suddenly straightened and smiled sheepishly. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"No, I'm okay," Sam said quickly, with a reassuring smile.

Amor stood still for maybe two seconds before he suddenly flung his arms around Sam again. "If you were a puppy I'd ask if I could keep you!"

Almost as one, Castiel and Dean glanced at each other with twin looks of amusement. Dean saw a rush of pleasant surprise flood the other man's blue eyes and almost immediately looked away. Though his hostility towards Cas had eased he still felt on edge, too on edge to allow even the briefest connection, no matter how simple.

Amor seemed to have realized what he'd just said. He stepped back, his hands held up in a gesture of peace as he stared up at Sam with a horrified expression. "No, I didn't mean...you look very much like a human, and a very handsome human at that! What I meant...that is, I meant to say...Cas! Save me!" Wide eyes turned to stare at his son pleadingly.

Castiel's low chuckle was fondly amused as he watched his Father. "It's okay, I think Sam knows what you meant."

"Oh good." Amor breathed a sigh of relief before his eyes abruptly widened. "Oh, I almost forgot! I...ah...overheard some information."

The way the Cherub said overheard made Dean think that hadn't been _quite_ the right term. By the way Castiel's eyebrows rose he didn't think so either. "Overheard?" Cas repeated dubiously.

"Overheard," Amor said stubbornly. "I knew already that Azazael had allies among the demons but...but...some of _us _are on his side!" Amor waved a hand wildly between himself and Cas, giving Dean the impression that 'us' meant Angels. "They're not directly helping but they aren't stopping things, either. Sam's infection could have been prevented, as well as several others. They just...turned away."

This information struck Castiel harder than a well placed punch. Dean could see it in the in the way his shoulders tensed and his gaze grew tight with disbelief. "No. No, that can't be. You must have heard wrong," Castiel said with a shake of his head.

"I wish I had," Amor replied sadly.

Sam reached out and put a hand on Amor's shoulder, which seemed to considerably brighten the Cherub's mood. "I'm not the only one in danger here, right?" Sam looked at both Amor and Cas as he spoke, as though unsure which one held the most information. "There are other people who need help?"

"That's true," Amor replied. "But you're the most important. I have no idea why, I just know you're the one both sides wants."

"But is someone going to help the others?" Sam pressed. Dean felt a flare of pride towards his brother for thinking of others in this situation even as his protective streak doubled in size.

"He has a point," Castiel pointed out. "We can't just leave everyone else."

Amor nodded and released a heavy sigh. "I know. I...I might have gathered up a few Cherubs...pulled them off duty to help out..."

Dean almost asked what off duty meant but decided his capacity for information was already overloaded for one day. In fact, everything felt overloaded. He began to realize he was tired, that he was distancing himself from the conversation. He wanted to see Carmen, he thought vaguely as he turned and began to make his way towards the bedroom. He wanted to curl around her soft, feminine form and pretend this was all a bad dream. An extension of his ever recurring nightmare, he decided as he crawled into bed, clothes and all. Yeah. That's all it was.

He slept dreamlessly, waking only when Carmen came home to tell him she was going to work. She told him Sam and his friend had gone back to his parents house and that Sam would call him later. Dean nodded sleepily to let her know he'd heard her before leaning up for a kiss. This time it felt right, as it always had before Cas, and when he slipped back to sleep his dreams were peaceful and solitary.

... * ...

_Wow, this one was over a thousand words longer than the previous chapters. Hopefully the wait won't be as long this time. :-D Please review!_


	6. Chapter 6

"You called me Cas."

Amor blinked, his distracted gaze focusing somewhat as he turned to face his son. He'd been watching Sam, his expression serene as he dreamed on the couch, and Cas found himself wondering what was going through his Father's mind as he watched the believer. "Oh. Oh! I picked it up from Dean's mind. Should I not use it? Is it a special Dean name?"

Castiel chuckled; up until now he hadn't actually thought of it as 'special', yet in a manner he supposed it was. "It's alright if you want to call me that," he said quietly; he didn't want to wake Sam.

The Cherub smiled brightly and reached over to give his son a one armed hug. "You said you had to talk to me about something," Amor reminded him.

Castiel nodded. He'd realized after leaving Dean's that he still didn't know how to hide Dean and Sam. When he explained this to Amor he looked surprised before the expression morphed into something more sheepish. "I'm sorry, Cas. I shouldn't have assumed you'd know, you are half human after all. Here, we'll wake up Sam and I'll show you."

Castiel was reluctant to disturb the man after what he'd been through that day but accepted the fact that the longer they waited, the more danger he was in. A single touch to his bare arm had him stirring. Amor brushed his fingers over the skin gently until Sam's lids fluttered open, sleep heavy eyes searching until they found the Cherub's face. He smiled a little, rubbed his eyes and sat up. Castiel noted curiously that Amor had not removed his hand from Sam's arm.

"What is it?" Sam asked sleepily. He let his hand fall from his eyes and gazed up, half awake and bleary eyed, at the Angel standing over him.

"I need to hide you," Amor told him. "So that demons and other angels can't find you unless they see you. Cas needs to know how too, is it okay if I do this?"

Sam nodded immediately, without even the slightest hint of hesitation or doubt. A real, true believer, Castiel thought with a small smile.

"Thank you." Amor smiled gratefully, then turned towards his son. "Put your hand over mine, the one on his arm."

Stepping closer, Castiel reached out and laid his hand over the one resting against Sam's bicep. Sam watched them, his eyes slowly growing more alert as curiosity sapped away his sleepiness. He looked so relaxed, so unconcerned, that for just a moment the half blood felt jealous. What he wouldn't give for just a bit of peace right now, even the brief escape of restful sleep.

Amor said nothing further, only closed his eyes, but Castiel knew words were no longer needed. Words were, in fact, useless. A few of the powers of Angels could be described, if only loosely, but most could only be taught through feeling. So Castiel stood very still, his own lids slipping over a distant blue gaze, and felt. He felt his Father's long fingered, soft hands, the hard muscle of Sam's bicep beneath his fingertips, the sudden warmth that flooded from his Dad and rushed up his arm. He heard Sam gasp, felt the muscles beneath his fingers flex in reaction to what was happening. The warmth soaking his arm flooded his entire body and just like that, he knew. It was a teaching a full human would not have been able to learn from. Fortunately, at least in this case, Castiel was not fully human.

Almost as one the two opened their eyes. Sam was blinking up at them as though blinded and the half blood realized it was probably the light that came from the Cherub's use of his powers. It was bright even to them, to a human it would be far more powerful.

"Okay Sam, you can go back to sleep," Amor said with a smile.

Still blinking rapidly, Sam let Amor guide him back down onto the couch. The angel's hand lingered on the man's shoulder until he'd closed his eyes. Only then did he step back, his expression strangely tense.

"Did you understand?" Amor asked quietly after a moment.

Castiel nodded. He fingered the edge of his shirt and watched his Dad nervously; seriousness from the Cherub was never a good sign. Amor was a bright, happy, often ridiculous sort of being, seeing him truly serious usually made for some kind of trouble.

"I should tell you something," Amor said suddenly, so suddenly that Castiel jumped. "Dean...oh, how do I put this?" Amor turned away from Sam and walked into the kitchen so that the man could continue to sleep through their conversation. Castiel followed him silently, his mind already on his soulmate. Would Dean let Cas protect him from those who would hunt him? Would he even let Castiel touch him? He'd seemed less hostile near the end...

"You might need to get pushy," Amor continued. "I understand why you're stepping back and giving him space but I think you might need to get right in his face with this."

"In his face?" Castiel repeated slowly, almost chuckling at how that sounded. He'd already been in his face once...

"That doesn't count!" Amor cried, catching the thought immediately. Then he slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes flying wide as they darted towards the living room. Sam grumbled something about worms and shoes but didn't wake. Castiel made a mental note to ask Dean when and why he'd put worms in Sam's shoes. It never even crossed his mind that the older brother might not be the culprit.

When he was certain that Sam was still Amor continued. "I'm just saying that space might not be the best thing, with his personality."

"It's not just that," Cas murmured, his eyes downcast as he recalled yesterday's events. "He has a girlfriend."

Amor's eyes flicked towards Sam, making Castiel frown, but he focused on his son again so quickly that the half blood decided he must have imagined it. "That does complicate things," He muttered. He paused, his brows knitted together thoughtfully, before he brightened considerably. "In the dream, when you kissed him, how did he react?"

He'd reacted...well, Castiel thought. At least within the dream. The half blood remembered putting his arm around the man's waist when his Cherub side had overwhelmed him with a need for closeness. Dean's only reaction had been to put a hand over his own, as though the position were the most natural thing in the world. When he'd turned the man to kiss him he hadn't seemed startled or disgusted, he'd seemed almost to expect it. Though Castiel said none of this aloud he saw his Father taking it all in, grinning more and more widely the more he absorbed the information.

"Fight for it!" Amor blurted abruptly, so loudly and determinedly that he again slapped a hand over his mouth and glanced towards Sam. The man squirmed and appeared to try and kick off his shoes before settling again.

"I didn't leave your Mother because of the Angels," Amor said quietly. Castiel blinked in surprise; how had they jumped to this subject? "There's...oh, how do I explain this?" Amor's hands fluttered about helplessly as he squinted at the darkened linoleum, as though expecting to find an answer there. "There are many types of love, you know that. There's this...this brief sort...well, not brief, love never actually goes away...but it's a type that's not meant to keep two people together. Do you understand?" Amor looked up from the floor to his son hopefully, his hands still making strange patterns in the air.

"I think so," Castiel responded slowly. "Like a friendship that lasts through childhood but fades with adolescence?"

"Exactly!" Once again Amor had to slap a hand over his mouth. Castiel chuckled to himself; quietness was not one of his Dad's strong suits. "There's a time for it, and then it's gone. That was how it was with the two of us. Now, Angels _did _prevent me from seeing you as much as I would have liked, but that's not the point. I bet if I got close enough to sense him again, I could tell you that is the type of love between Dean and his girlfriend."

"And we're meant to last?" Castiel said dubiously; he was beginning to doubt they were meant to be at all. "Most soulmates aren't meant for each other this early, are they?"

Amor's eyes narrowed suspiciously at him. "You've been researching things on that blasted inter...inter...computer thingy, haven't you?"

"Well, you weren't always there to answer my questions," Castiel said with a sheepish smile and a shrug. The comment was not at all resentful, just a statement of fact.

Amor scowled. "It's going to change, damn it. I'm tired of this power game the Archangels are playing." He shook himself suddenly and smiled again, though his comments left Castiel painfully curious. "I'll admit that is occasionally the case, but not always. It really can depend on circumstance and pure chance. In this case I think it's circumstance. I can't say it's Fate because she's tried her damndest to keep you two apart. She can be such a bi...I'm swearing too much."

Castiel snorted, loudly enough that it was his turn to glance at Sam. "I don't mind it, you know," He assured his Dad with an amused smile.

Amor nodded. "Alright, enough of this seriousness, it's going to drive me out of my head. Tell me about first meeting Dean, I didn't see much of it before." He smiled eagerly, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, making Cas laugh quietly.

"It didn't go as I had hoped," the half blood said with a sigh, though he couldn't help the lingering smile at his Dad's antics. "I was found once by a demon on the way to Lawrence and another one found me on my way to see Dean. Or it might have been the same one, I'm not sure. I had wanted to ease my reality on him slowly but I didn't have a choice, the demon was going to find us if I didn't do something. I..." the half blood trailed off, then reached out suddenly and touched his Father's hand. Immediately, everything about their first encounter was in Amor's mind, as vivid and real as it was for Castiel.

"Oh oh, he touched you first!" Amor gave up trying to be quiet; it seemed Sam was going to sleep through it anyway.

"To convince himself I was real," Castiel pointed out.

Amor pouted. It was the first time Cas had ever seen an expression like that on his Dad's face and he had to press his hand to his mouth to muffle his laughter. "It counts!" Amor said stubbornly.

The half blood wanted to believe that, so badly it was nearly a tangible sensation, so he decided to let himself. He had to have something to keep him going, didn't he?

Sam kicked out against the couch again. His brows drew together tightly in a distressed frown, his hands tightened and relaxed, then tightened again. Before Castiel had even taken a step Amor was across the room and kneeling beside the couch, a hand resting in Sam's longish hair to absorb the dream that was bothering him. Cas frowned yet again at his Father's oddly attentive behavior. It wasn't so strange for Amor to become fixated on someone or something, yet this level of intensity seemed new. Then again, he didn't see his Father much, perhaps this was more normal for him than he realized.

"Go check on Jessica!" Amor whispered urgently.

An image of Jessica followed the words almost immediately. Without hesitation Castiel raced up the stairs and opened the first door he found. It revealed an empty guest bedroom, so he quietly closed it and reached for another but before he could grasp the knob the door swung open to reveal a rumpled, sleepy Bobby. The half blood only spared him a glance before racing to the next door.

"What's goin' on?" Bobby muttered as he stepped out into the hall.

"Which room is Jessica's?"

Bobby pointed vaguely towards a door at the end of the hall. "She's in Sam's room down there."

Quickly, Castiel sprinted silently down the hall and opened the door. The room was empty, save for the young woman sleeping soundly, curled around a pillow with a content expression on her face. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, Castiel silently shut the door and returned to the now more alert Hunter staring pointedly at him from across the hall.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Bobby asked when Castiel had reached him.

"Sam offered to let me stay here," Castiel answered. He paused a moment, looking into the Hunter's eyes with a calculating expression before nodding to himself. "Come downstairs. We'll explain."

"We?" Bobby asked but Castiel was already heading down the stairs, leaving the Hunter no choice but to follow him.

"She's alright," Cas assured Amor, who was sitting on the edge of the couch by Sam's legs, stroking his arm. The man's face had relaxed and there was a small smile on his face, suggesting his dreams had taken a turn for the better. "This is Bobby, he's a friend of this family and a Hunter."

"A Hunter?" Amor looked up curiously. He met Bobby's eyes, just as Castiel had, and nodded almost immediately. "We can trust him." He stood up from the couch and strode across the room, giving Bobby a hug before Castiel had a chance to warn him. The half blood couldn't help a quiet chuckle at the startled expression on the Hunter's face. "Why don't you sit down? This might take a while."

... * ...

When Dean woke up his house was empty. Each room was checked with paranoid caution and with every empty space he felt greater and greater relief. Or at least he thought he did, until finally he knew for certain he was alone. Then he felt something else, a nagging doubt at the back of his mind. Where was Cas? He hadn't dreamed about him last night, he wasn't anywhere in the house. Was he okay? Maybe he was with Sam. He'd call Sam and find out.

He had gone back into the bedroom to get his cell phone from the nightstand when he stopped dead, his fingers curled around the device and his eyes focused with a kind of dread on said device. What was he doing? Why was he so concerned when last night all he'd wanted was to forget the man had ever existed? He told himself firmly that he didn't care where Cas was, that it would make him perfectly happy to discover he was gone for good, yet even as he thought this he found himself flipping open the phone and dialing Sam's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey Sam, it's Dean."

"Oh, hey Dean!" Sam sounded cheerful, more cheerful than he had since he'd come home. "Castiel is here with me, did Carmen tell you? Or are you calling for something else?"

Dean had a vague memory of Carmen coming in to talk to him last night. "Yeah...yeah, she told me, I just forgot. I was pretty out of it."

"Yeah, you looked tired. Amor is here, too. We told Bobby everything. Wait until you find out why he moved! Mom and Dad went out with Jess for the day, you should come over."

"Yeah okay, be there soon." Dean hung up the phone and shoved it into his pocket. On autopilot he got his coat, his keys and his wallet and headed out to start the Impala.

The first thing he saw when he walked into the house was Sam and Amor sitting on the couch. They were talking cheerfully, or rather Sam was talking and Amor was watching him with a big, silly smile on his face. Sam had always been the friendlier and more personable of the two but Dean had never seen him quite this comfortble so quickly with anyone before. Was it the whole Angel thing? Where was Cas, anyway?

Damn it, why did he give a shit where Cas was?

"Hey, Dean." Bobby appeared from the kitchen, a beer already in hand despite it only being ten in the morning. Castiel followed him out, a glass of orange juice held in his own hand. When he saw Dean he held up the glass and nodded back towards the kitchen. The man shook his head but managed a small smile. He couldn't begrudge Cas being polite, could he?

"Hey Bobby," Dean greeted. "So...I hear you've been filled in." He waved a hand to encompass the little group.

"Yup," Bobby said simply. He glanced back towards Castiel. "Met this one on the way here, thought he was kidding when he said he was half Angel. Didn't think Angels existed, to be perfectly honest."

Castiel slipped around Bobby and came to stand beside Dean, his eyes focused on his orange juice. "Are you..." Castiel sighed and forced himself to look up. His blue eyes looked hopeful, resigned and a bit frightened all at once.

"I'm good," Dean said before he thought. He knew what Cas was asking; was he still angry? The truth was he wasn't and he knew it. So they had a connection. Fine, he could work with that. Maybe they'd even be friends. Somehow the idea didn't settle well with him but he shoved the thought aside for now and focused instead on his little brother.

"Good, then I need to ask you something. Is it okay if I hide you?" Cas held up one hand towards Dean's chest, his eyes questioning. "It will keep demons and angels from finding you unless they actually see you. We already did it to Sam. Bobby, too."

Dean automatically glanced at Sammy, who appeared unharmed. "Yeah, okay," He muttered. What the hell, this week couldn't get any weirder.

Quickly, Castiel placed his hand on Dean's chest. A bright light flared from him, brighter than the one he'd seen in the car, and a sharp but brief pain flashed in his chest. Then it was gone and Cas had stepped back, both hands now on his glass and his eyes downcast again.

Right. That hadn't been so bad. Turning away form the half blood, Dean faced Bobby again. "So Sam said something about why you moved?" Dean mentioned, needing something to talk about to draw his attention away from the problem fidgeting at his side.

Bobby nodded. "I've been a Hunter for years, since my wife was killed. Yes killed," He repeated when Dean's eyes widened. "She didn't die from any disease like I said, she was killed by a demon. When I realized my closeness with your Dad and you guys was going to cause trouble I moved. So this whole situation doesn't surprise me much. Makes me sad, though," He added absently. "I was hopin' you and Sam would never have to deal with this like your..." he trailed off suddenly and took a swig of beer. "Never mind, forget I said that."

Right, because _that _was going to happen. "Like who?" Dean pressed.

Bobby shook his head. "Not my place to tell you. You'll likely find out later, anyway."

"Have you eaten yet, Dean?" Castiel asked suddenly.

Surprised, Dean glanced over at him. "No, not yet," He answered slowly. "Why?"

"Because I need something to do with my hands," Cas muttered before he slipped away into the kitchen without waiting to find out if Dean _wanted _to eat.

Bobby had wandered over to talk to Sam, making Dean suddenly wonder where Amor had gone. He blinked and found him standing right there in front of him, no more than a few inches away. Startled, Dean yelped and stumbled a few paces back before glaring at the Angel. "What the hell?" he barked.

"Sorry," Amor said sincerely. "I keep forgetting about personal space. Listen, you should know that Castiel is really scared right now. He's not showing it, I'm not sure he even knows it himself, but your reaction to him is frightening him. He thinks you hate him, I think. Or that you don't care, which might be even worse."

Dean shuffled his feet like he always did when he was uncomfortable. "I don't hate him," he admitted almost reluctantly. "And I guess I care, 'cause I was worried when I couldn't find him this morning. But I'm not gay! I can see us being friends but I think he's thinking about something...you know..."

"More?" Amor finished helpfully.

"Yeah," Dean muttered. "More."

"You're an idiot," Amor informed him, though it was said so cheerfully that Dean honestly couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

Castiel came back then with a plate of scrambled eggs and a piece of toast. He thrust it almost embarrassedly at Dean, who took it automatically. For a moment he stared down at it with a bemused expression; Carmen didn't really cook and neither did Dean, partly because of their opposing schedules and partly because neither one of them was very good at it, so having someone bring him breakfast felt...strange. Strange, yet not not at all bad.

"Thanks," Dean murmured finally, lifting his eyes to the other man's to let him know he meant it.

Castiel grinned at almost the same moment Amor started laughing. Cas cast his Father a fond glare while Dean just stared at him with confusion.

"Ignore him," Cas practically growled.

"I am impossible to ignore!" Amor said loudly, then he bounced back over to Sam.

"Okay, why is he so fixated on my brother?" Dean asked, pointing the fork Cas had brought with the plate towards the Angel.

Cas shook his head. "I don't know yet," He answered. "I don't get to see him that much, for all I know this is normal behavior when he meets a believer."

"So what now?" Sam asked suddenly. "I mean, do we need to get out of town? Should I tell Jess or would it be safer if she didn't know?"

Dean glanced at his little brother with an impressed expression; he was handling this whole thing much better than himself.

"I don't know," Amor admitted. "I...I don't know."

For a moment there was a tense silence. All eyes avoided each other, not wanting to see their own uncertainty or that of the other reflected back at them. Finally, Bobby let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. "I've got an idea," He drawled. "How about we do some research on this yellow eyed demon...Azazael?" He glanced at Castiel for confirmation, who nodded.

"I don't think books would tell us anything we don't already know," Amor pointed out. "We know he infected many children with his blood. We know he has demons on his side as well as a few Angels. We know he has a keen interest in Sam. We know he's one of the older ones and very powerful." Amor stopped and frowned, seemingly at himself. "We know we're screwed!" He cried suddenly before he burst out laughing, so hard that he fell against Sam's side. The taller man looked down at him with hesitant amusement and obvious concern as he lifted an arm to put it around Amor's shoulders so he wouldn't fall off the couch.

"Sorry," Amor gasped a moment later as he straightened. "Sorry, I start laughing when I'm panicking."

No one said anything. An Angel had started to panic, what more could be said?

"Okay, is there a way to track the kids?" Bobby asked. "The ones with powers like Sam?"

"Could I find them?" Sam ventured. "Maybe connect with them?"

"I don't think so," Amor said with a shake of his head. "But you may have visions that will give us clues, so be sure to look for details if you have another."

Dean realized abruptly that Cas was no longer at his side. Frowning, he wandered towards the kitchen, where he found the half blood leaning against the counter with his face in his hands. Placing his half eaten breakfast on the table, Dean paused a moment and wondered how to proceed. He still felt decidedly uncomfortable with the other man, yet a persistent need to...to what? Take care of him? He felt such a need with his brother but this felt different, more intense. He almost let out a frustrated sound before he choked it back. To hell with it, he thought as he began to slowly, silently stride forward. He was going with it.

Hesitantly, Dean reached out and put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. The half blood's head jerked up in surprise, his blue eyes even more surprised when they saw it was Dean who had touched him. "You okay?" Dean asked roughly.

Castiel smiled wanly and nodded once. "I may not see him often but my Dad and I have a very deep connection, so when I see him get like that I...it..." He trailed off, his eyes growing more distressed with each word, until they were unfocused and...

"Frightened," Dean murmured, finishing his thought aloud. "It scares you."

The half blood nodded once. Though it never crossed his mind to do anything more than stand there Dean found the man suddenly in his arms. He wasn't sure which one of them had moved, all he knew was one moment the only contact between them was Dean's hand on his shoulder, the next Dean had both arms around Cas's shoulders while the other man's head rested against his own shoulder. For a moment Dean froze completely, his eyes wide and startled, not because of the position itself but because of how it felt. It felt like the kiss.

It felt _right. _

"Dean." Castiel's voice was startled, confirming that it was Dean who had pulled Cas to him and not the other way around.

Dean said nothing. He knew if he did he would question this and then he would reject Castiel again. Despite everything, he knew he didn't want that. It was just a guy comforting a friend, he told himself. He'd already said they could be friends. That was all it was.

Hands slid up his back, gripping his shirt briefly before moving higher. Fingers slipped into his short hair, cupping the back of his head in a manner that was a little more than friendly. Panic consumed him despite his self assurances and he backed away suddenly, his hands held up in front of him as though to defend himself from an attack. Castiel watched him go, his eyes hollow with sadness, though he did nothing when Dean turned to leave.

The man was stepping through to the living room when he turned partially around. "Look, I didn't mean to..." Dean sighed heavily and made himself look at the other man. "I don't hate you and I don't not care," Dean said quickly, remembering Amor's earlier words. "I just don't want you to think that meant something it didn't."

He left quickly, without waiting for a reply, though he could feel the burn of Castiel's gaze following him even after he'd disappeared from his sight.

... * ...

For just a moment, Castiel had brushed a piece of Heaven.

He hadn't expected Dean to come and find him. He'd hardly seemed to notice Castiel standing beside him, even if he had expressed gratitude for the breakfast Castiel had made him. When he'd felt the hand on his shoulder he'd first assumed it was Amor and been quite startled to find Dean watching him with concerned eyes. The embrace had come as an even greater surprise. It had been so _comfortable, _so perfect that for just a moment anything that lay beyond Dean's arms had been utterly forgotten. Responding had seemed only natural but his response had been of the sort that Dean wasn't ready to accept yet. Now he was gone again, though his parting words gave Castiel a mixed sense of despair and hope. On one hand, Dean now seemed open to some sort of relationship with him. On the other, he clearly didn't want anything beyond a friendship. Or at least, he was convincing himself that he didn't.

Amor was gone when Castiel finally got up the nerve to return to the living room, as was Bobby. Sam came over to tell him that Bobby had gone to see if he could find anything on any other kids that might have been infected while Amor had simply disappeared. This surprised Cas; Amor wasn't one to leave without saying goodbye first. Dean was also gone and when he asked where he was Sam said he'd gone to work.

"You can stay here, if you want," Sam offered.

Cas almost said no. He almost ran right out of the house, back through the town and into the quiet, dirty little abandoned house that offered alluring solitude. Instead he nodded once and forced himself to smile. "Thank you. Do you have anywhere to be?"

Sam shook his head and grinned. "I'm on summer vacation, I get to be lazy. Besides, I want to know more about you and Dean. What does it mean that your soul loves his?"

For a long moment Castiel gazed at the younger brother uncertainly. Should he tell him? He had a feeling that Sam would be understanding, perhaps even a source of support and even friendship. There was something in his eyes, a sense of empathy that invited you to tell him everything that troubled you. It tugged at him seductively until finally he gave in.

"It means we're soulmates," Castiel said finally. "I've known since I was little that I was connected to someone, I think because of my Cherub powers. Did he tell you about his dreams?" he waited until Sam nodded. "That first dream was the first time I was able to find him. At first it was only about being with him, until I realized he was connected to Azazael and the visions I'd been getting from the Angels."

Castiel explained his ability to hear the Angels and occasionally receive visions from them, how he'd known about Sam because of them and how, through Dean's dreams, he'd come to understand that he had to impose himself on their lives more quickly than he'd intended. Sam listened without interrupting, his eyes as sympathetic and understanding as Castiel had suspected they would be.

"Are you in love with Dean?" Sam asked when Castiel had finished.

The question startled him. He'd never actually thought of that. He knew his soul loved Dean's but did _he _love _Dean_?

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "But I know it feels good when I'm around him, even now when he's so confused. I know I want to stay close to him."

Sam nodded and said nothing, though there was a small, oddly knowing smile on his face.

Bobby returned two hours later with news that he had discovered several 'incidents' in nearby towns involving strange events that pointed to more infected children. As he explained his findings it suddenly occurred to Castiel to wonder why Bobby had come here. Had he known about some of this before and come back to protect his friends?

It seemed the same thing had crossed Sam's mind because he asked Bobby about his visit before Cas could.

"I didn't know anything about what he's told us," Bobby said, waving a hand in Castiel's direction. "But I found some omens that said Lawrence was the new demon playground, so I came to make sure you guys were okay."

"I guess that's not something you could say over the phone," Sam said with a nod.

"Well...I could have," Bobby said slowly. "But it would have put someone in a real awkward position."

Someone in this family was a Hunter, or had been at one time. The knowledge struck Castiel suddenly and he felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner. It wasn't Sam or Dean, that left only their parents. Castiel had only met them once briefly that morning, when Sam had introduced him as 'Dean's friend Cas' when they'd come down to make breakfast. That certainly hadn't given him enough time to guess at which one of them might have been a Hunter.

Sam didn't press the matter as Dean had; it seemed he knew Bobby wasn't going to give up the information.

John, Mary and Jessica came home just after six. Castiel watched first John as he sat with Sam and Jessica, including Castiel in their conversation as easily as though he'd known him all his life, then Mary, first while she joined the conversation and then while she was in the kitchen making dinner. All he got for his trouble was confusion. Neither one of them put out the vibes of a Hunter, past or present. Maybe he was mistaken?

Dean came home just before seven. His eyes flicked over the room, seeking out first his brother and then Cas. When he'd found them both the half blood noticed a visible relaxation in his posture. He even went so far as to cast a hesitant but sincere smile towards Castiel, encouraging the hope Castiel had felt muddled so thoroughly with despair earlier that day.

Mary set an extra place at the table when it became apparent that Cas wasn't going anywhere. The half blood had never really been a part of a family dinner before but found he greatly enjoyed the new experience. Did Sam and Dean have any idea how lucky they were? Or did they take such love for granted? He found himself looking around the table on more than one occasion and hoping the latter wasn't the case.

Dean surprised him again by offering to let him stay in his old room. Cas almost accepted but knew the temptation to get closer to Dean would be too great, so he took the couch instead. He fell asleep with a warmth inside that he'd never experienced before, one so thick and comforting that his dreams were full of hope and happiness.

Around two in the morning that warmth shattered, dashed into a thousand shards by a scream of such pain that no one who heard it that night would ever be able to forget it, no matter how much they may have wanted to.

... * ...

_I've been doing really well on my book lately, so I put this aside for a bit so I could focus on that. Then when I came back to this story everything rushed out all at once. I was pretty happy with this chapter. How about you? *glances suggestively at review button* :-D I already have a pretty good idea of what comes next, so I'll try to update more quickly this time. _


	7. Chapter 7

_To Lady Ridley: I wish I was fooling with you. _

_To Clever Name: Oh gaia your review made me laugh! ^_^. And what the hell, did you read my mind? You'll know what I mean about half way through the chapter, lol. _

_... * ..._

It was Sam's scream that had awoken Castiel. The half blood was off the couch and up the stairs to Sam's room almost as quickly as Dean, who had bolted inside seconds before the other man. Castiel felt the heat of fire as he came around the door with enough speed to nearly slam into the wall. Inside was a scene so horrifying he knew it would stay with him for the whole of his life.

At first all the half blood saw was the fire raging against the ceiling, tearing through material with a terrifying hunger. Then he realized a body was pinned there, already mostly consumed in the flames. Blood pooled on the bed below and smeared the face of a horrified, still screaming Sam, struggling in his brother's arms to reach the woman who was already lost. For a second Castiel was unable to move, not because of Jessica's burning body or the blood or even the stench of charred flesh but because of Sam, because of his face twisted in agony and the almost inhuman sounds of pain he made as his hands reached futilely for the ceiling. Then a voice pierced his terror, a desperate voice calling his name, calling for help.

It was Dean.

Rushing forward despite the heat, Castiel helped Dean grasp the younger man and pull him forcefully from the room. The fire was already spreading down the walls. Castiel could hear shouts from downstairs, saw that all the doors had been flung open and that only Mary remained upstairs, rushing down the hall towards them, her face twisted not in fear but in anger. Relief flooded her eyes when she saw both her sons alive, then concern when she realized Sam was the only one being pulled from the room.

"Where's Jessica?" Mary cried over the roaring of the fire.

Before anyone could answer a blinding flash flared from Sam's room. The fierce light of the flames flickered out, the heat diminished. When it faded Amor was standing in the hall behind them, staring at Sam with such agony in his eyes that it nearly matched the younger man's own.

"I tried to get here," Amor whispered. "When I realized he was coming...I tried to get here in time...oh God, Sam, I'm so sorry!" He started forward but seemed to think better of it.

Sam didn't seem to hear him. He'd gone limp between his brother and Cas, his eyes empty and staring at nothing.

An ambulance and a fire truck had arrived by the time the four made it downstairs. Mary left them to explain that the fire was out while a man came over and tried to take Sam. Dean practically snarled at him, which didn't seem to surprise the paramedic. "I just want to make sure he's okay," He said to Dean in a soothing tone of voice.

Releasing Sam with one arm, Castiel reached around and placed a hand on Dean's back. The other man glanced at him, his snarl fading into a reluctantly accepting frown. "He's not hurt," Dean muttered even as he let the paramedic lead Sam to the ambulance, where he had him sit just inside the open back doors. Sam went along without a word, his eyes still unfocused and hollow.

"No, I don't think he is," the man agreed even as he began to check him over. "He is in psychological shock, though."

Dean hovered protectively over Sam's shoulder while the paramedic completed his examination. He tried looking over Dean as well but ended up backing away with his hands held up defensively when Dean unleashed a snarl far worse than the one he had uttered before. Castiel allowed the man to examine him without complaint, taking the opportunity to get close to Sam. When he touched his hand he felt Sam's presence, distant and withdrawn but intact. A sigh of relief escaped him; he would be alright. The grief would consume him for a while but he would be alright.

Time passed in a blur of questions and answers, actions and reactions. Castiel found himself staying close to Sam, his hand ever present over the younger man's own. He'd read once that when someone went into this kind of shock the best thing was to help them emerge from the initial withdrawal. Staying too long within his own mind could cause lasting effects. After what he'd been through tonight, Castiel wanted to at least try to prevent the worst of the possible future symptoms. A daze drifted over him as he tried to use his Cherub side to connect to Sam more fully. At first he drew back, shying away from companionship, from reality, from everything, but after a little coaxing Castiel felt the hand beneath his curl upwards in response. The other man blinked once and took in a deep breath. He didn't move or look around him but for now it was enough.

"Is he..."

Castiel looked up sharply, startled by the sudden voice. Amor was standing in front of them, his eyes wide and quietly horrified. "I tried," He whispered.

"This isn't your fault, Dad," Castiel murmured with as much reassurance as his weariness would allow. "If you want to blame someone, blame the Angels who let this happen."

"But _I _should have been watching out for him!" Amor burst out angrily, his features contorting into a look of agonized fury. Castiel leaned back, startled by the almost unheard of expression in his Father's eyes.

Just as quickly as it had come, the emotion vanished, replaced by a sadness that was also painfully out of place in eyes so often filled with happiness. He reached out and touched Sam's cheek with the tips of his fingers. Slowly, as though in a trance, Sam lifted his eyes to the Cherub's and did something Castiel would not have imagined he was capable of just then.

He smiled.

It wasn't a happy smile, it was a reassuring expression, a weary effort pushed through from behind a wall of pain and grief. It disappeared quickly but Castiel found himself wondering again if it was merely the connection of Angel and Believer that was making them act this way.

Instead of seeming assured, Amor looked stunned and even more crestfallen than before.

"Dad," Castiel said quietly. "What's going on?"

Amor let his hand fall from Sam's face. "I'll explain later," He said. "I have to go. If he asks, tell him I'll be back as soon as I can."

The half blood said nothing to stop the Cherub as he vanished. It would not have mattered if he had and he knew it.

"Dean," Sam murmured suddenly. He said nothing further but Castiel understood. He stood from the back of the ambulance and walked over to Dean, who was standing beside his Mother and Father as they looked at the house with sadness written plainly across their faces. Carefully, Castiel reached out and touched Dean's shoulder. He didn't start or snarl like he had at the paramedic, he just turned and looked at Cas questioningly.

"Sam needs you," Castiel said simply.

Mary reached out and stopped Dean before he could walk away. "Take him to your place," she said quietly, her eyes looking passed Dean and to her other son with a strange mixture of hardness and grief. "Get him away from here. He won't come out of it until he gets away."

It was her. Somehow it didn't surprise Castiel that she was the Hunter in the family. Before he had seen nothing to say she wasn't a normal woman but now, with that hardness in her eyes and the strength that it reflected, there was no question. He said nothing about his observation; it was not his place to reveal her secret. Instead he silently followed Dean back to Sam. Between the two of them they led him to the Impala and left the horrific scene behind them. Cas sat in the back with Sam, once again using his empathic abilities to connect to his still too distant presence. Several times he saw Dean glance at them in the rear view mirror and every time he thought he felt just a little more of Dean's apprehension slide away.

The house was dark when they arrived. Dean stumbled blindly towards the light switch while Castiel waited by the door with Sam. When the living room light came on all of them blinked several times and Sam made a tiny, startled noise. He looked up and blinked as though surprised. "What happened?"

Dean came over and took Sam by the arm, leading him towards the couch. "We're at my place," he said softly as he guided his baby brother onto the couch.

Sam paused and for a moment Castiel feared he would retreat inside himself again. Instead he said quietly, "Jess is gone."

Dean didn't answer for a moment. He swallowed several times and blinked furiously for a moment before saying, "Yeah. She's...she's gone. Come on, you need to sleep. We'll figure this out in the morning, okay?"

Sam shook his head, almost violently. He started to shake when Dean tried to get him to lay down. "No," he whispered, his tone frightened and almost child-like. "I'll see it again."

Not tonight he wouldn't. Castiel was across the room and at Dean's side before he could register the fact that he'd made the decision to move. He held up a hand but paused to glance at Dean, his eyes silently asking permission. The other man stared at him a long moment, then nodded slowly.

"It's okay, Sam," Castiel murmured as he reached down and laid a hand across his eyes. "You won't dream tonight."

Almost immediately, Sam began to relax. He sank bonelessly into the couch cushions, his lids drifting down as sleep tugged at him. The half blood had no idea what he'd just done or how he'd done it but he was grateful for the ability, even if it was as short lived as Sam's peaceful sleep would be.

"Cas?" Sam's eyes slipped fully closed. "Where's Amor?"

Cas never had time to answer before Sam fell asleep.

As soon as Dean was sure his little brother was settled he began to walk towards the kitchen. In the doorway he paused and looked back to see if Castiel was following him. Despite the situation the half blood felt a thrill shiver down his spine, accompanied by just a small side of disbelief. He followed the other man into the kitchen where Dean pulled out two beers. Then he stopped suddenly, staring at the green bottles with a thoughtful expression before he replaced one and pulled out instead a hard lemonade. He held it out hesitantly to Cas, his gaze questioning and even a little nervous.

"You don't like beer, do you?" Dean's eyes flicked uncertainly around the floor until Castiel reached out and took the bottle. Then he lifted them to look at the half blood, though he never quite met his gaze.

"Not really," Cas replied. He could hear his surprise in his own voice.

"I don't know..." Dean shook his head and opened his beer. He drained nearly half the contents before speaking again. "I don't know why I know that."

Cas opened his lemonade and took a much smaller drink than Dean had. "Do you want me to explain it?" He asked after a moment. "Or would you be more comfortable not knowing."

Dean leaned back against the counter, his gaze thoughtful again. "Explain it," he said finally.

Cas felt another quick shiver but tried to conceal his reaction. Slowly, he told himself, this was going to happen slowly. "Have you ever known what Sam wants, or answered a question before he asked it?"

Dean nodded. "Mom always said it was because we were so close," he said. He waved a hand between the two of them. "We're not close."

_Not yet, _Castiel thought. "Our souls are. I think if we became...better friends...you'd find that you know a lot more than just what kind of drink I like."

The other man seemed to catch Castiel's hesitation when he said 'better friends' but said nothing about it. "Can you sense something about me?" He asked. He sounded genuinely curious, though he still didn't meet Castiel's gaze.

Several things. Cas took another drink, longer this time, debating whether or not to share everything he could sense from Dean or just a little. "I can sense how scared you are for Sam," he said quietly. "How much you hurt for him."

Dean glanced out towards the living room, a flash of that hurt and fear showing briefly in his eyes, and Cas began to understand that this conversation was serving as a distraction. The half blood searched for something else to tell him and quickly blurted out the first thing that came to mind in an attempt to lead him away from the pain he'd been trying to avoid in the first place. "That beer isn't your favorite."

For a second the two were silent, then Dean smiled wanly and lifted his bottle in the vague motion of a toast. "Good call. Which one is?"

Castiel shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "We're not that close."

He hadn't meant for it to come out bitter but knew it had the moment the words left his mouth. Fingers began to move restlessly over the neck of the glass bottle; had Dean heard it? The other man hadn't moved, hadn't reacted at all, maybe it had gone unnoticed.

"Budweiser," Dean said suddenly. "Kinda average, I guess, but it's my favorite anyway."

Silence fell again. Castiel moved slowly, almost cautiously, across the room until he was leaning on the counter beside the other man. He left a foot or so between them, which Dean seemed comfortable with. They finished their drinks and then just stood there, staring into the living room and towards the sleeping Sam. They'd yet to hear a single noise from him, indicating that whatever Castiel had done had worked. It was going to be a hard morning for him, and a hard few nights afterwards, but for a few precious hours nothing could touch him.

"Does this have anything to do with what you were running from?" Dean asked suddenly.

Castiel glanced over at him. His eyes had gone hard, like his Mother's. There was less experience in the mask but no less strength. "I thought maybe you'd forgotten about that."

Dean chuckled suddenly. "I did for a while," he said. "Kinda hard to focus when your imaginary friend has his hand down your pants."

The half blood felt his ears flush red and looked away embarrassedly. "Sorry. I was...in a hurry."

Dean shrugged. "S'okay." He reached over and somewhat hesitantly punched Cas on the shoulder.

Cas smiled at the contact and tried to ignore the butterflies that had suddenly taken up residence in his stomach. "It's connected. That was the second demon to find me while I was looking for you, though I think both incidents may have been an accident. They're all looking for your brother. We're involved but we're...lesser players, at least to them." he paused, then added, " At least I am."

Dean shuddered and crossed his arms suddenly, as though to hide it. "Demons," he muttered. "Still having issues with that."

The man's eyes flicked towards a small clock on the wall above the doorway suddenly. The hands pointed out that it was nearly three in the morning. Dean let out a quiet groan and lifted a hand to scrub it over his face. Then he shook his head and muttered something to himself, too quietly for Cas to hear.

"What is it?" Cas asked.

"Work," Dean answered. "I gotta call Rob, tell him I'll be gone a few days."

The half blood almost said he'd likely be gone much longer than that but kept his silence as Dean picked up the phone and called his boss.

... * ...

Rob had been understanding and supportive after Dean had explained what had happened, with a few details omitted. He insisted Dean take a week to help Sam work through Jessica's death before telling him to get some rest. When Dean hung up the phone he glanced over at Cas, who was still leaning on the counter, watching him and trying not to be obvious about it. Maybe it was the exhaustion but he felt more at ease with the other man than he had that morning. If he thought about it he knew it was partially because of how Cas had interacted with Sam. He'd been nothing but kind to his little brother and after watching him try to coax Sam from his shock he couldn't help but feel appreciative towards him.

"You stayin' here?" Dean asked suddenly.

Cas looked up, surprise flickering in his blue eyes. "Is that alright?"

Dean shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant. "Yeah. Couch is obviously taken but that chair across from it reclines." He paused, frowning thoughtfully, then "Wait, no. I'll take the chair. I should be there when he wakes up. Go ahead and crash on the bed, Carmen won't be home until around eight and I'll be up by then."

Dean didn't wait to see what Cas would say, instead he rushed out of the kitchen and into the living room. Though he wasn't absolutely sure why, or maybe he just didn't want to think about why, he'd felt suddenly uncomfortable as soon as he'd told Cas to take his bed. It wasn't like they were going to be in it together! It would just be Castiel...in his sheets, on his pillow, leaving a bit of himself in a place only he and Carmen had shared. He felt abruptly flushed and to distract himself he reclined the chair and went to the bathroom closet to find a spare sheet.

To get to the bathroom Dean had to pass the bedroom. As he went by he saw Cas standing by the edge of the bed. His shoes were sitting neatly by the door, along with his socks, and for some reason Dean became focused on his bare feet. The half blood was wiggling his toes in the carpet in an agitated sort of way while he stared down at the bed with an unreadable expression. As Dean watched he slowly climbed onto the bed, clothes and all, and laid face down on top of the covers. When he buried his face in Dean's pillow the man felt another overwhelming sense of discomfort and fled.

That night Dean dreamed. He was still in his house, standing in the doorway to his bedroom, watching Cas sleep. Dean felt distant, detached, and the feeling let him walk forward until he was standing beside the bed. He reached out and touched Castiel's hair, noting vaguely that it was soft but in need of a shower. He left his hand there a moment, then trailed it down over the sleeping man's neck and shoulders. All the while he wondered at how right it felt, just to touch him, with no agenda in mind except to feel.

The half blood murmured something in his sleep and rolled over. Dean froze for a moment, then reached up and touched the place where Cas had spiked his hair. He could feel the stiffness of the gell holding it in place, which felt strange after the softness at the back.

"Damn it," Dean murmured suddenly. He let his hand continue downwards, a strange need now driving his actions. When his fingers trailed over Castiel's face, when the other man leaned into him in his sleep, something stirred inside him, something that terrified him to the point that he flung himself from the dream and woke up, sharply. For several moments he lay there, eyes closed, telling himself to calm down. When he opened them the clock told him it was 6:45.

Sam was lying on his back on the couch, staring up blankly at the ceiling. As Dean sat up he saw his little brother flinch and wondered if he was remembering. When he stood and Sam still didn't move it became apparent that he was doing more than remembering; eyes that had seemed blank at first glance were actually frozen in distant terror. He flinched again violently as Dean approached and a soft, choked sound came from his throat. He was trapped in the memory, from the looks of it living it again as vividly as though it were still happening. Dean hesitated to reach out, uncertain whether the contact would help bring him back or damage him. He didn't know anything about psychological shock and it made him feel helpless.

"Dean? What's wrong?"

Startled, Dean jumped and twisted his head over his shoulder. Castiel was standing just outside the shadows of the hall that led back to the bedroom. His hair was rumpled from sleep and his eyes were still half closed, yet even through thick lashes Dean could see his concern. "What's wrong?" He repeated.

"Sam," Dean answered. He didn't bother to ask Cas how he knew something was wrong. "He's awake but he's stuck in the memory, I think. Can you help him?"

Immediately, Cas came forward and knelt beside the couch. "I don't know," he murmured, his voice reflecting the helplessness that Dean felt. "I can try."

Dean nodded, almost frantically. "Try." He paused, then added quietly. "Please."

Cas was lifting his hand to do just that when Amor stepped into view, seemingly out of thin air, behind the couch. Before either man could so much as react he had leaped nimbly over the back of the couch and laid a hand across Sam's eyes, his own gaze held in a tight mask of calm. "It's over, Sam," he murmured. "Come back." He glanced at Dean, who saw a sheen of tears in the barely controlled gaze. "Dean's worried, Sam. Will you come out and tell him you're alright?"

Sam shifted. His eyes blinked suddenly, furiously, before he sat up as though startled. Amor let his hand fall to cover one of Sam's larger ones but said nothing, just watched as Sam's eyes sought out his brother.

"Sammy?" Dean reached out and put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "You in there?"

Slowly, Sam nodded. "Yeah," He murmured. "I'm here."

Dean didn't ask if he was okay. He wasn't going to be okay for months, if not longer. "You hungry?" He asked, almost hoping he was just so he could _do _something.

Sam shook his head. "No," he answered shortly. He hung his head and said nothing further.

A hand suddenly slipped into Dean's and began to pull him away. At first he resisted, not the grip in his hand but the direction in which it was taking him. Castiel squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture and smiled wanely, jerking his head towards the kitchen, then towards Amor, who was stroking Sam's hand and talking quietly, too quietly for them to hear him. Dean didn't understand but he let the half blood lead him to the other room until they were out of sight of the pair.

"Dad can help him more than we can," Castiel explained when Dean turned to stare at him questioningly. "At least right now."

Dean became suddenly aware of the fact that their hands were still entwined. Embarrassedly, he tugged his arm away, though he did not step back from Cas. "Okay. Why?"

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest, his uncomfortable blue eyes cast towards the floor. Dean knew it was because he had pulled away and for the first time he felt a distant flicker of guilt. "Because he's an Angel," Castiel said. "Because his powers are all based on emotion, love. He can help Sam at a level that we can't."

Dean stared at him skeptically. He leaned around the doorway until he could see his brother, still sitting there with his head hung. Amor was still kneeling in front of him only now he had both of Sam's hands in his and his eyes were closed. He leaned back and stared hard at Castiel until the half blood began to fidget.

"It's more than that, isn't it?"

"I..." Castiel sighed and shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I think so."

Amor poked his head into the kitchen moments later, his eyes hopefully expectant. He let out a sigh when he apparently didn't see what he'd wanted to and let the rest of his body follow his head inside. "He's...well, he's not alright but he is, if you know what I mean. As alright as he can be." He cast an exasperated expression at Dean. "You're an idiot," he said with the same cheerfulness he had used before.

"Dad," Cas admonished with quiet amusement.

"Well he is!" Amor cried, waving his hands pointlessly in Dean's direction while the man just stood there, stiffly, unsure how to react. "Oh, but I suppose it's not his fault." He sighed somewhat dramatically and leaned back against the wall, his expression abruptly tired.

"What were you doing while you were gone?" Castiel asked. He side stepped towards Dean and touched his arm lightly. The man looked up and saw Cas flick his eyes towards Amor before rolling them and smiling. Dean found himself smiling back a little and even chuckled quietly, understanding the silent message. The half blood wasn't apologizing for Amor, simply relaying that mixture of embarrassment and fondness most children had for their parents.

"Checking in with the others," Amor responded. The weariness in his expression became more evident in the hard frown that twisted his lips. "Cas...there's something you should know. Some of us, the ones I've gathered, we've...we've stopped following orders."

Dean frowned and glanced at the other man. Cas looked shocked, which he took to mean that this was something unheard of. "What are you doing, then?"

Amor laughed, though it wasn't a happy laugh. "We're rebeling, I suppose. Something isn't right, Castiel. The Archangels are speaking for a God I don't think they can hear anymore. They're trying to take over. We're still using our powers but we're going on instinct like we used to in the beginning. We've all hidden ourselves and we've been trying to use that to our advantage but so far we haven't found out anything more about Azazael or what he's trying to do with the children. We don't even know which Angels we can trust outside of ourselves."

"Have you told them about us?" Cas asked.

Amor shook his head. "No. They know I'm working 'on a lead' and that's it. Oh...oh god. I'm getting _suspicious!_" The Cherub looked positively mortified by this, which Dean found almost funny, if only because of how round his eyes got.

"Is that weird?" Dean asked, because he just couldn't help himself. Who didn't feel suspicious sometimes?

"For me it is," Amor replied with a sigh. "I have this child-like tendency to trust everybody."

Out of the corner of his eye Dean saw Castiel nodding almost frantically and found himself smiling again.

"Dad, I need to talk to you for a moment." Cas turned towards Dean with an apologetic expression. "Privately, if that's alright."

What the hell, was he asking permission? For a second Dean didn't know how to react, until he realized that Castiel was trying to make sure Dean knew he wasn't being excluded, it was just a Father and Son thing. He could understand that, he'd had a few of those moments himself. "Yeah, it's fine," Dean said with a shrug that looked more careless than he felt. "I'll go check on Sam."

He meant to do just that, yet at the last second he held back by the doorway and listened instead. Guilt tried to make an appearance but curiosity beat it back with a large enough stick that he was able, at least for now, to ignore it.

"No!" He heard Amor cry. He heard a thud, which he decided was probably Amor hiding his face on the counter. He seemed like the type of person to do that.

"Dad." Castiel's tone was almost accusing. "You said you'd explain."

"I know. I know I just...I can't. Not yet." There was a shifting, likely Amor standing.

"Dad," Cas said again.

"Not never! Just not yet!" The Cherub sounded as guilty as Dean knew he would feel later for listening in.

Castiel sighed quietly. "Alright. Later."

"I promise," Amor said almost dejectedly. Then, with a sudden shift to brightness that Dean was certain no human could have managed, he announced loudly, "Dean is warming up to you!"

Dean felt his face heat even as he admitted to himself that it was true. He almost let himself think about it but when he did he remembered the kiss, the closeness, and it overwhelmed him. Letting Sam be his escape, he rushed into the living room, leaving behind him the thoughts he wasn't ready for.

Sam was standing in the open doorway, staring with an empty expression down an equally empty street. Dean hesitated, uncertain whether to approach him or leave him to his thoughts, or lack of thought as his gaze suggested.

"Dean." Sam turned his head and looked straight at him, his eyes alarmingly empty.

"Yeah?" Dean took a few steps forward, his tone cautious. "You still there, Sammy?"

Something flickered in the empty gaze, something hot and furious. "Yeah," Sam said quietly. "I'm here."

"Okay." Dean took a few more steps, bringing him within touching distance of his little brother. He lifted an arm and laid it carefully on Sam's shoulder, his eyes wide with unconcealed concern.

"Dean." That heat flared brighter, hotter, and Dean felt dread begin to build in his stomach as some part of him began to understand what it was. "I'm going to kill him, Dean." It was said so calmly, so matter-of-factly, that Dean thought for a wild second that he was kidding, or that he'd maybe gone crazy. Perhaps he had gone crazy.

"What? The yellow eyed demon?" Dean scrambled for something, anything, to say that would redirect his brother's thoughts. "Come on, Sammy. How would we fight a demon?"

The heat in Sam's eyes had flared to a point that it could be clearly defined as rage, uncontrollable, maddening rage. "_We _don't have to do anything. I do."

Disbelief flared in Dean at those words. He started to open his mouth to say that was ridiculous, whatever they were doing they were doing it together, but he never got the words out. Right before his eyes, without any warning of any kind, Sam vanished.

... * ...

"Sam's gone!"

The half blood whirled around to face an equally frightened and pissed off Dean. Amor started from where he'd been leaning against the counter, his expression showing surprise and his own flash of fear. "How?"

"I dunno, he vanished!" Dean growled. The anger was taking over his fear, as it had when Castiel had first appeared. "I was talking to him and he disappeared!" He pointed violently at Cas, who almost took a step back from the anger once again being directed at him. "You said they couldn't find him!"

"They can't, not unless he told them," Amor said before the half blood could reply. "It could be one of his powers manifesting. He may appear again at any moment."

Cold dread formed in the pit of Castiel's stomach, making him shake his head to deny Amor's explanation before he'd even finished it. "No," he murmured. He looked away from Dean as he began to shake, unable to look at him as he realized what had happened. "It was my fault. When I put him to sleep...I made him unaware of his dreams. If Azazael was able to enter one, he could have made Sam tell him where he was without Sam's awareness."

Amor shook his head, more a frantic gesture of hope than an outright denial of Castiel's reasoning. "He would have taken him sooner if that were the case."

"Not necessarily. Sam might not have told him exactly where he was," Castiel pointed out. "He may have had to search for him a bit."

Fearfully, Castiel glanced towards Dean. The man was leaning against the doorway, one hand over his eyes, hiding whatever emotions remained there. "Dean?" He asked carefully.

"Did you know that was going to happen?" Dean asked without lifting his hand. "Did you know Sam wouldn't be in control of his dreams?"

"No," Castiel said immediately. "I didn't know. I didn't even know I could do what I did. I knew he'd be unaware but...I should have thought of it."

Dean drew in a deep, slow breath. When he released it he let his hand fall. In place of the anger was acceptance and what might have been determination, thought Castiel couldn't say that for certain. "It's not your fault," Dean said finally, his tone suggesting he was convincing himself of that as much as Cas.

The response left Castiel weak with relief but he put the feeling aside. It wasn't important right now. "Dad, do you have any idea at all where Azazael would be now?"

Amor shook his head helplessly. "We haven't been able to find out. I don't know where he would have taken Sam and I can't find him since we hid him from the Angels." He hesitated suddenly and looked away, fear dancing sharply through the eyes Castiel had inherited. "There...there's another way I might find him."

"How?" Dean stepped away from the doorway and towards him, the word, his eyes, his very movements displaying sudden, desperate hope.

"I..." Amor looked away. "I'm...connected to him."

Castiel frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It doens't matter," Amor said quickly. "I just am, and it might mean I can find him. But we can't go yet."

"Why not?" Dean fairly growled.

The Cherub sighed and turned to face the angered man. "I have to give you the basics," He said.

"The basics of what?"

Amor exchanged a glance with Castiel. The half blood understood, though he felt sad for Dean and the burden he was about to take on as Amor shifted his gaze back to the man.

"The basics of being a Hunter."

... * ...

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

"Dean!"

The man mumbled something inaudible into his pillow. He lifted a hand and waved it in the general direction of the voice, as dismissively as his sleep heavy limbs would allow. A soft, feminine hand came to rest on his shoulder. The mattress shifted as another's weight was added.

"Wake up, Dean."

"Mmph!" Dean protested. He nuzzled further into the pillow, ignoring her voice, ignoring the world. There was _something _on his pillow case, a scent he couldn't identify. It smelled a bit like vanilla, he thought. No, that wasn't quite right, it was too..._spicey_...for vanilla. No, that wasn't right, either...maybe it was some kind of flower?

"Dean, wake up," Carmen coaxed. Her hand kneaded at his shoulder, which should have felt good, but instead it distracted him. What was this smell?

The hand on his shoulder stopped it's massaging motions and shook him once, sharply. "Okay, seriously, you lump, get up. There's some weird stuff going on in the living room and no one seems to want to tell me what happened to Sam."

Dean ignored her. A hand came up and drifted across the pillow, as though the added touch would somehow help him identify the smell. It was _good, _whatever it was. He took a deep breath of it and wondered if he could just stay here today. Just stay and drift, half asleep and surrounded by this scent...

"Did you get a new perfume?" Dean murmured, his voice muffled by the fabric he'd buried his nose in. "'Cause it smells really great."

The hand began to run up and down his arm, then moved into his hair. Normally, this was something Dean enjoyed, but today something about it felt...off. Not wrong, just...strange. "No, nothing new. Oh, but your friend Cas mentioned that you let him sleep in here last night, maybe it's something he wears?"

Just like that, Dean was awake. Not only awake but up and at the edge of the bed, his eyes wide and breath coming in sudden, short pants of panic. He'd been nuzzling _into Castiel's scent! _Not only that, he'd been enjoying it immensely!

"Dean?" Carmen slid up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Conflicting reactions warred within Dean; while part of him wanted to reach around and cling to her and the safety she represented, another wanted her off. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," Dean answered hoarsely.

Now that the haze of sleep had lifted the last three days poured back into his unwilling mind. Hands rose to cover his eyes and he wished it were that easy to block out the world. What had happened? How had he come so far from the Dean he'd been a week ago? Was Sam alright, wherever he was?

Where was Cas?

The final question drove him to his feet. Carmen let him go, watching his retreating back with a mixture of confusion and hurt that Dean never saw.

"Cas!" Dean called as he stepped out into the hall. He heard voices in the living room and headed towards them.

"Dean?" the half blood met him at the end of the hall. His too-blue eyes were tired and half closed and in his hand he held a gallon of what looked like plain water, though Dean suspected it was anything but what it seemed. Castiel and his Dad had been bringing in strange things since before he'd fallen asleep.

"I..." Dean trailed away; he didn't know why he'd called Cas. "I...didn't know where you were," he finished lamely.

Lifting his free hand, Castiel rubbed it vigorously across his tired eyes. He looks like a sleepy three year old, Dean thought with a small smile.

"That would make me happy if I didn't feel as though I were going to pass out at any moment," Castiel murmured as he let his hand drop. The tiny smile on his face said it made him happy anyway and Dean couldn't find it in himself to be angry about it, only somewhat apprehensive. "I think we have everything."

"Okay." Dean found himself striding forward and reaching for the half blood before he could think his actions through. He let himself take Cas by the arm and began to lead him, without thinking, towards his room.

Carmen! His mind screamed as he took the first step.

"Crap," Dean muttered. He changed his course and instead led an unresisting Cas into the living room. "Go to sleep," he said gruffly. "I don't need both of you to learn. Have you been awake all night?"

Cas nodded as he let Dean take the water from him. It was set on the floor before the man guided the half blood down onto the couch. "I didn't want to waste time," Castiel murmured. He fell over backwards, suddenly boneless. Dean shifted him around until he was lying more comfortably along the back of the couch. "What are you going to tell Carmen? She was a little...disturbed...by the items on your table."

Dean shook his head. He took a blanket from the couch, an old patchwork his Mother had made for him when he was small, and threw it over the half blood. "I don't know. She'll sleep for a while, I'll...I'll deal with it later. Go to sleep."

Cas nodded mutely. He drew the blanket up under his chin and in a matter of seconds his eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out. Instead of leaving Dean stood there, tense with the nerves making his chest feel tight and his throat constrict. He had to know. There was so little room for doubt, but he had to know for certain. He watched the half blood's breathing for several long moments, until he was absolutely sure he was asleep. Then he leaned down, so that his nose was mere inches from the other man's neck, and took a deep whiff.

That smell he'd been enjoying so much before invaded his nostrils immediately, stronger and sweeter and so very, painfully real. Oddly enough, Dean's nervousness vanished. Instead of panicking he felt a sudden, odd sense of calm. Had he snapped? He'd heard of people going very calm when they first snapped.

Sam, he thought. Focus on Sam.

Amor was waiting for him in the kitchen. A variety of items were laid out on his table, nothing, he would admit, that he'd been expecting. He'd honestly thought that he would see more weapons but there was only one, a knife in the center of the pile that looked like it was made of silver. The water was still on the floor by Cas, he remembered. Then again, it probably didn't matter. Not yet, anyway. Not with the sheer volume of learning material staring him in the face.

"You okay?" Amor asked.

Dean glanced up at him. Before now he hadn't really _looked _at Amor. He looked so much like Castiel, he thought, or rather Castiel looked so much like him. The eyes, especially, the too-blue, too-emotional gaze that refused to look away. It seemed strange that a creature who'd been alive longer than he could comprehend could look so innocent. Was it because of the angel thing?

"Dean?" Amor took a cautious step forward. He laid a hand on Dean's shoulder and, when Dean didn't react badly, took another step closer. "You're going to get mad at me if I hug you, aren't you?"

Instead of agreeing, Dean found himself chuckling quietly. "What's with your obsession with hugging?"

Amor shrugged. "Cherub thing. We like to be close to people. If you think I'm bad you should see some of my friends, they're SO much worse. And naked. Always naked. They keep forgetting that makes humans uncomfortable. Besides, you look like you need a hug! Cas certainly needed one earlier!"

Very abruptly, the cherub shut his mouth and turned away. "Never mind, you don't care about that," he muttered.

Anger at this immediate assumption blazed hotly through Dean's chest. "The hell I don't!" He snarled. The intensity of his reaction shocked him. He took a step back from Amor and turned away, staring through the kitchen doorway and into the living room. "I care," he murmured more quietly. "I...shit. Can we just do this?"

The man turned back just in time to see a grin vanish from Amor's face.

_You bastard! _Dean thought vehemently; the cherub had played him. He wanted to be angry, he really did, but he honestly couldn't blame Amor. How could someone blame a Father for watching out for their son?

"You can talk to me, you know," Amor announced suddenly as Dean took a seat at the table. "I won't say anything to Cas." He sat down across from Dean, his eyes intent, as though he were trying to speak to the man through his gaze as much as his voice. "I want us to be friends, Dean. I really like you, and I think you'd be very good to my son, if you'd only pull your head out of your very human _ass _and see what's right in front of you!"

Amor's voice grew louder and louder as he spoke, until he was leaning forward, hands braced on the table, eyes lit with an anger so sudden and intense that it was too bright to live. It flickered out almost instantly. An expression of complete mortification made the angel's eyes go wide as he slapped a hand over his mouth and abruptly began to giggle, as though he knew of no other way to release the vast energy his short fury had generated. "I'm sorry! That sounded strange, didn't it? I didn't mean to yell at you. It's not your fault you're human. I'm sorry."

Dean sat there, stunned, staring at the angel with an expression that suggested he might have grown several extra heads.

"_Teaching!_" Amor practically shrieked, gesturing wildly towards the items on the table. "Ah, I mean...yes, learning now. Teaching. Remember you can talk to me if you want."

Dean continued to stare at him.

"Salt!" Amor threw a cloth bag at Dean so that it hit him square in the face. It slid almost without notice into the still stunned man's lap. Amor frowned, looking very much like a disapproving parent. "_Must _work on your reflexes," he muttered.

"Friends, then?" Dean said suddenly. He had decided to deal with the situation by pretending to have missed the second part of Amor's sentence completely.

Fortunately, Amor latched onto the peace offering the second it was within reach. "Yes! Friends! Now, get the salt off your lap and hand me that poker."

For the next several hours Dean absorbed more information than he'd ever received in his life. Iron repelled ghosts and they couldn't cross salt. Neither, apparently, could demons. Holy water could reveal the demon hidden within a possessed human because it hurt them so much they could not control their reaction to it. Silver killed werewolves and beheading killed vampires. The list went on, and on, and on...

It was nearly two in the afternoon when they finally stopped to take a break, though Dean was reluctant to do so. Sammy was out there somewhere, possibly hurt, definitely in danger. He wanted to go _now_, but Amor insisted they had to stay until Dean was prepared. _What are the chances I'm gonna bump into a werewolf_, Dean had wondered. _Why not just tell me about the demons and be done with it._

_Because_, an obnoxious voice in the back of his mind replied, _you're gonna need every scrap of info you can get. Besides, this is what you'll be doing now._

Dean wanted to tell the voice to shut up and go away. Instead, he realized with a chill that it was right. There was no way he could posess this kind of knowledge and not do something with it.

"What do you want to eat?" Amor asked suddenly. Dean started; he hadn't even realized Amor had moved. He looked up and found the angel standing with the fridge door open, his eyes roving about the different items with curiosity.

"Nothing," Dean replied; he'd lost his appetite the moment Sam had vanished.

"You need to eat," Amor pressed. "You're no good to Sam half dead. What do you want to eat?"

Heaving a sigh, Dean glanced over the food in his fridge. None of it looked appetizing, so he told Amor to make him whatever he wanted. He would eat it, he told himself, if only for Sammy's sake.

Within moments Amor had whipped up two sandwiches. He put them on paper plates he found on the counter and handed one to Dean before he plopped back down in his chair and began to eat with vigor. Angel's needed to eat? Dean found the question intriguing enough that he had to ask.

"No, we don't need to," Amor answered. "But I just _love _food! Besides, it seemed odd to make you sit there and eat by yourself."

"You're odd," Dean muttered as he lifted his sandwich. He couldn't contain the quick grin that flashed across his face.

Amor chuckled. "I know. I'm even odd by Angel standards!"

For a moment the two fell silent. Had it not been for the bizarre items strewn across his table Dean might have been able to pretend, if only for a second, that this was just a normal lunch with a buddy. Instead he found himself going over and over the new information crammed into his mind, which eventually led to the sleeping half blood on his couch. He did have questions, he realized, that he had been unable to bring himself to ask Castiel. He gazed thoughtfully across the table at the Cherub, eating steadily without tasting any of it. Amor was willing to talk to him, he thought. Without the intensity that Dean could see in Cas's eyes every time he so much as glanced at him.

"What exactly does it mean that we're soulmates?" Dean blurted, before he could lose his nerve.

Amor's head snapped up immediately from his food, his eyes going wide with surprise and delight. "Oh! You're going to talk!" He dropped his sandwhich and leaned forward slightly, then seemed to think better of it and sat back instead, giving Dean some extra space. "Well, soulmates themselves aren't an uncommon thing," Amor began. "To be honest it is far too difficult to explain to someone with such a human mind. But I can tell you this; it is very, very rare for soulmates to actually connect. I don't mean in a physical way, necessarily, I mean in the way you and Cas have. Some soulmates will meet in this life and feel closer than they ever have with anyone else but that's as far as it goes. You two have melded on every level _except _a physical one. And you accepted it without hesitation, or Castiel would never have been able to enter your dreams, nor you his. Were you to unite in that last way you would be...well...I can't even describe it. You would have to experience it." Amor paused. He waved his hands about helplessly before continuing. "I suppose what I'm trying to say is that while your soul has accepted Cas completely, your heart hasn't. Dean Winchester, the current manifestation of your soul, has only partially accepted him. So I suppose I can't even tell you what it means because you haven't decided to risk it."

Risk it.

Dean felt the strangest sensation then, as though his calm had shattered, yet he didn't feel panic. Nor, he noticed, did he feel empty. He felt...suspended, caught between warring emotions he found he could barely comprehend. Was it his heart and his soul, fighting to decide? The thought was so bizarre to him that he immediately put it from his mind, pursuing another question as a means of distraction.

"Okay, at one point I think I saw him, Cas I mean, when he was in trouble, and later I was in trouble and I swear I felt him. What was that?"

If Amor had been delighted before he was ecstatic now. "That was a Spirit Meld! It happens between two connected souls as a form of protection. I think you'll find that when...or if...you accept Cas completely you'll be able to do so much more than that. And no, it wouldn't have happened before because you hadn't formed your connection yet."

Dean shut his mouth; could he read minds or something?

"Yes," Amor replied with a nod. "I try not to, it seems to bother people, except Cas, he understands. I like calling him Cas, I wonder why I never thought of that before?"

Very abruptly, Amor stood up. His expression morphed from excited to serious so quickly that Dean wasn't just startled; he was almost afraid. The angel came around the table to stand before him and for just a second the man could see his wings, pure and white, stretched out impossibly far on either side of him.

"Try?" he whispered. "Just try, Dean. If there is even the smallest spark in your heart, let it catch fire. _Trust me, _you _cannot _let this slip through your fingers!"

There were tears in the angel's eyes. Dean felt a shock pass through him; somehow, they looked indescribably wrong on Amor's face. Without thinking Dean stood up and searched for something to wipe them away. When he could find nothing he let himself reach out and brush them roughly away with the back of his hand. Had Amor been just another guy Dean wouldn't have even imagined trying this. As it was...well, his life had strayed so far from anything normal that this was just one more thing. One more crazy, supernatural thing added to his already over flowing plate. Did it count as supernatural? He supposed it did, he thought with a somewhat crazed chuckle. After all, it was an ANGEL'S face he'd just wiped those tears from.

"What happened to you?" Dean found himself asking. Had he meant to ask? He didn't think so.

Amor shook his head. He turned away and Dean heard him take a deep, shaky breath. "Later. When we've found Sam. He needs to know, too, if he doesn't already."

The angel turned, looking more or less his usual self. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to see that. Do you want to rest? You look tired. I know you just slept but what we need to do next is much more physical. You should rest. Go rest. I'm...going to go check on something. Might be a lead. Bye!"

The last was said so desperately that Dean didn't even try to protest. What was the point? Clearly he wasn't going anywhere until the angel felt he'd been properly prepared and there was no way he could find Sammy on his own. So he took the angel's advice, despite his reluctance, and wandered into the living room. He collapsed into the chair across from Cas and was out in a matter of seconds.

...*...

The scene hadn't changed. Castiel knew he was fast asleep, yet he remained in Dean's house, on his couch, only the room seemed a bit brighter, with the exception of a small, gray cloud, laced through with thin lines of white, hanging by the chair across from him. Though he had no idea why, Cas had the strangest feeling the cloud was doubt, though the white lines were a mystery to him. When Dean appeared beneath it that feeling was only enforced.

"Hey," Dean murmured, seeming not at all surprised to see him. "Sleepin' well?"

"I think so," Cas replied. "What have you learned?"

Dean let out an odd sound that was somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh. "A lot, man. Apparently whatever comes next is physical, so I'm guessing it's hand to hand and stuff, so Amor told me to rest."

"I could teach you that," Castiel offered; it was something he'd been doing since he was young, a drive that at the time he had not understood. He thought he understood it much better now. "Or I could help, at least."

"Yeah. That'd be good," Dean muttered distractedly. "I talked to him. Amor. About us."

Cas froze. His eyes flicked to Dean's downturned face with a mixture of apprehension and hope; he'd said 'us.' Did that mean he'd been thinking about it? "What was said?"

Dean shrugged. "I asked what it meant to be soulmates. He said he couldn't tell me, I had to find out. I..." Dean paused. Then, so abruptly that it seemed his head should have snapped right off, he looked up and straight into Castiel's eyes. "I..."

Fear flooded the wide, bright gaze. Cas held perfectly still and kept silent, terrified that if he so much as batted an eyelash Dean would lose his nerve and back away again. Instead, the man cleared his throat and continued to stare steadfastly into the half blood's eyes.

"I...shit, Cas, I think maybe...maybe I want..."

Castiel opened his eyes.

"No!" He cried aloud, and then slapped a hand over his mouth for fear of waking Dean.

Feeling irrationally short of breath, Cas stood and ripped off his shirt, leaving only the white tee beneath it. He tugged at the neckline, as though the extra space would somehow allow more air into his lungs. Had he really been about to say that he wanted to try? The very thought sent flashes of excitement so powerful through his body that he felt himself burning. He tugged again at the neckline as his breath came in short bursts; he had to calm down! It was possible Dean would pretend he'd never said it when he woke up, would claim not to remember. So he made himself sit. He took several deep, slow breaths and let just a bit of his glow out, let the light comfort and calm him until his breathing had returned to normal.

It was that moment that Dean chose to wake. His eyes settled on the faint glow surrounding the half blood and a small, tired smile came to his lips.

"You know, that's actually kind of neat."

Sluggishly, Dean sat up. He set his elbows against his knees and continued to gaze sleepily at the bluish-white light. Had he intended to wake, the half blood wondered, or had he forcefully dragged himself from sleep to follow Cas?

"What were you going to say?" Cas asked cautiously, trying his best to ignore how his heart rate once again began to pick up speed.

Dean blinked. A yawn escaped him and he reached up with one hand to rub his palm vigorously across his eyes. "Give me a minute," he muttered. "How much can you glow, anyway?"

Well, he wasn't denying anything, Castiel thought hopefully. He remained cautiously optimistic as he let his light shine out clearer, until it wavered on the edge of dangerous. It made his wings vibrantly clear as they spread out behind him, so long that they almost disappeared through the walls. It was lucky they weren't physical, he thought, because if they had been he would have broken a couple lamps and knocked several pictures from their places by now.

"Wow," Dean murmured, his eyes now wide awake and focused with something very close to awe. "Can you fly?"

"Angels can," Cas replied, unable to keep the wistful tone from his voice when Dean spoke of one of his greatest desires. "I can't."

"Why do you have 'em, then?"

Slowly, Castiel let the light fade until it had receded back inside himself. Dean blinked several times and squinted, as though the room had become dark in the absence of the glow of angelic grace. "The wings aren't just for flight," Cas explained. "They're...almost an angel's essence. Their power. It's difficult to explain, I don't even fully understand it."

Dean frowned, a thoughtful expression that furrowed his brow and made him look, in Castiel's opinion, absolutely adorable. "So...do angels have souls, then?"

The half blood almost laughed; he'd posed that very question to his Father when he was a child. "Angels _are _souls," he replied. "But...different than human souls."

There was a pause as Dean continued to stare absently in the general area Cas's glow had spread. Cas's hands began to fidget in his lap, his fingers playing nervously against each other until he could no longer stand it. "It's been a minute," he murmured. He couldn't wait, no matter how selfish he felt for it. He had to know.

"Yeah." Dean stood up. "It has."

...*...

_I think maybe I want to try._

That was what Dean had meant to say before Cas had abruptly vanished, pulled so swiftly back to his conscious mind that the man had been unable to complete the sentence he'd been stumbling over. And now, looking down at the half blood staring up at him with such terrified hope, he knew for certain. He didn't just want to try. He _had _to.

Purposely, Dean sat closer to Castiel than he would have before. Much closer. He saw a flare in the half blood's eyes, something so intense that his first instinct was to look away. Instead, he made himself meet that gaze, made himself feel the not at all unpleasant shiver it sent zinging down his spine.

"Dean?" Castiel asked carefully.

The man said nothing. No matter what his _very human _mind said, it wasn't going to hurt him to try this. _Just feel_, he thought as he slowly lifted his hand. _Do what the feelings tell you to. It can't be that hard. _

Carefully, Dean laid his hand over Castiel's. The touch sent a slight shock through his body, a little, shivering thrill that forced an involuntary shudder from him. Never once had he reacted to Carmen like that. The realization sent a cold rush of terror seeping through his system, yet he didn't stop, because it wasn't fear of what he was doing. It was the fear of what it meant.

"Dean?" Cas murmured again. Wide eyes were locked desperately on their joined hands, fear making the blue gaze overly bright and wild. Was it fear to hope, or fear of what was happening? Dean found his resolve wavering but sternly told his own anxiety to go fuck itself. It had to be fear to hope, it had to be, because Cas had been too resolved and too damn patient with the whole thing for it to be fear of what Dean was doing now. Or at least, that was what he hoped, because he had no idea how much longer he could hold on to the thin line of his courage.

_Try something else_, Dean told himself firmly. He let his fingers trail upwards. Cas had taken off his shirt at some point, leaving only a white tee. The bare arm under his touch was so different from what he was used to. Carmen was soft, slim, almost delicate. The skin was soft, though dusted with more hair than he was used to, but underneath were lean, hard muscles. Though slight of build for a man, Cas didn't look like he would break easily. Touching him like this should have felt strange. Instead, it kept sending those little thrills through him and somehow he knew it had nothing to do with the body, not exactly. It was the person inside it that made it attractive.

Attractive.

"Oh god," Dean whispered brokenly.

Cas's eyes finally rose to meet his. They were on fire with barely controlled emotion, that stubborn fear being one of them, though the hope it had been hiding now burned more brightly beneath the surface. "What do you need me to do?" he asked quietly. His voice was shockingly calm.

Though he didn't know why, Dean realized he'd been expecting to be pushed once he'd given any sign that he was ready to try this. The willingness to be patient, to give what was needed, even in the face of the desire so clearly written on Castiel's face, gave him the courage he needed to continue.

"Hold still?" Dean asked. "Just...just let me..."

Cas nodded. His hands gripped his knees and Dean realized he was shaking, yet he didn't move. For just a second Dean felt selfish but he fought it back; there would be time later, he thought. Now, he needed to get passed this hurdle.

Dean's fingers continued up Cas's arm and across his bicep. Castiel's eyes flicked back and forth between his face and his hand, as though uncertain what to focus on. He watched as the hand ran slowly along his shoulder, glanced against his throat. Fingertips trailed gently up and across his jaw before moving to cup his cheek. Unable to deny the urge, Cas let his eyes slip closed as he nuzzled into Dean's palm. It was a touch similar to hugging, a form of closeness the cherubs craved, and if the look in his eyes before they'd closed said anything Cas had been unable to fight back his reaction to it. Instead of dissuading him Dean heard himself gasp. The half blood looked...stunning. Suspended between fierce desire and a kind of serenity Dean had never seen before. Though his hands were still tight on his knees his face was calm and relaxed, his breath warm against Dean's palm. The man felt an overwhelming sense of fondness swelling in his chest, making him smile slightly despite the fact that his heart rate had just picked up more than a few notches.

_Just one more test_, he thought.

Sliding his hand around, Dean cupped the back of Castiel's head and held him there. When he began to lean forward with aching slowness his heart tried to beat it's way out of his chest, yet it wasn't all fear. In fact, most of it wasn't. It was excitement. Every nerve in his body seemed to come alive with the knowledge of what he was about to do, while his ethereal heart seemed as calm as his physical one was frantic. He could practically feel his soul singing, which was a strange thing because he was fairly certain he'd never really been aware of it before.

"Dean," Cas murmured suddenly, roughly. He locked eyes with the other man, who was now only inches away. The blue of his eyes seemed impossible. Dean was certain he'd never seen such a rich shade of the color in his life. "All you have to say is stop."

Just like that, the last of Dean's reservations melted away.

When Dean's lips hesitantly touched Castiel's it was nothing like the dream. It was so much more, because this time it was Dean making the first move, Dean who was fully aware of exactly what was happening. That sense of right, of belonging, surged through him in intoxicating waves, driving him to deepen the kiss, to delve further. His lips parted just a bit and he felt Castiel's do the same, though he made no further moves. He let Dean lead, let him set the boundaries, and when he pulled away he did not try to follow, though the tight expression on his face said the effort of holding himself in check was too painful to describe.

Letting his arms fall away from Cas, Dean leaned back against the couch and brought his hands up to cover his eyes. He sat like that a moment, feeling Cas's intent gaze on him despite the fact that he could see nothing but black. When he let his hands drop the half blood was sitting exactly as he'd left him, hands still clenched on his knees, his eyes on fire as he fought to control himself. _He's doing that for me, _Dean thought.

_"If there is even the smallest spark in your heart, let it catch fire."_

"Cas?" Dean said softly. "I need you to go for a walk."

...*...

TBC

_I'M BACK! ^_^ _


	9. Chapter 9

_Anriel._

"No."

_Anriel._

"NO!"

"Anriel." The voice was physical this time and just a tiny bit chastising. Just as physical arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him close against a broad chest. Amor let his head tilt back so that he could gaze up at the face of Ulien, a Cherub even older than himself. The embrace would have made humans so uncomfortable. He tried to imagine Dean in this position and almost laughed aloud.

"_Amor,_" he stressed the name, glaring up into huge, gentle black eyes that gazed down at him with kindness and sympathy.

Ulien chuckled. "Fine. Amor. You still won't listen."

"Do I ever?" Amor's answering chuckle was wry.

"Point taken. Did you hear what I said?"

Amor simply shook his head. He'd told Dean he might have a lead but he'd been lying. In truth he'd needed to run, to flee from Dean's scrutinizing, observant eyes before he'd pushed the issue further. _"What happened to you?" _he'd asked. The Cherub shuddered; not yet, he thought. He couldn't tell him yet. Not even Castiel knew that.

"I said we've seen increased activity from Lilith. I'm not sure but she seems to oppose Azazeal's plan, whatever it is."

Amor leaned more heavily against Ulien and wrapped his arms over the other Cherub's larger ones. They'd known each other for what seemed literally forever. The huge Cherub had always made Amor feel protected and loved. Now was no different, except that maybe he needed it more.

"Are we doing the right thing?" Amor murmured, a fit of uncertainty overcoming him. He'd never let Castiel know but it was happening to him more and more frequently lately. He didn't know what he would do if Ulien wasn't there to help him through it.

Ulien sighed, though the sound was far more fond than irritated. He shifted so that his chin was resting in Amor's short hair. "We haven't been struck down yet," he said dryly. "So I think we're okay."

Amor chuckled. "Where are the others?" he asked.

Others. There were only five of them. _Five. _Out of hundreds of Angels of every class, _five _had chosen to defend humanity. One wasn't even technically an Angel anymore. He'd become a Trickster, known most prominently throughout the human world as Loki. Known to them as Gabriel. Amor could still remember him when he'd been an Arch Angel, a force to be reckoned with. The reasons behind Gabriel's change had never been clear to him. It did pose a rather large problem, however; Amor was never sure whether or not to trust him. He wasn't even sure _why _Gabriel had popped up from out of the blue to help. He did so at random, when it seemed to suit him and no sooner.

"Gabriel is who knows where," Ulien replied with a sigh. "The other two children are out scouting, I believe. I haven't seen them for hours."

Children. That made Amor chuckle again. Muriel and Naren were thousands of years old but to Amor and Ulien, who had seen millenia beyond count, they were mere toddlers. Very strong, very capable toddlers, but toddlers nonetheless.

"I should go back," Amor murmured. He snuggled even further into the comfort of the Cherub's chest, unperturbed by Ulien's nudity; modesty was a human condition. A sad one, too, in his mind. One he was fearing might be wearing off on him; he was still wearing the jeans and black tee he'd materialized the day he'd flown Castiel from his home.

"Do they need you now?" Ulien asked.

Amor nodded. When he'd told Cas before that he hadn't told the others about them it had been true; he'd only broken down and told Ulien a short while ago. He couldn't stand hiding anything from one of his closest friends. "Dean has a lot of training to do. He has the instincts of a Hunter, I've seen it, but they've never been nurtured. Besides..." his first true, happy grin in what felt like days spread across his face. For a Cherub used to smiling almost constantly, it was a strange sensation. "I want to see if anything has developed between Cas and Dean!"

Ulien laughed at that, a full laugh that came from deep in his chest. Amor could feel it vibrating against his back. "You go, then. You could use the boost. I'll let you know if anything important develops."

Ulien dropped a kiss in Amor's hair before the Cherub vanished.

... * ...

Disbelief struck Castiel, as evident as a bolt of lightening in his shocked gaze. "You...are you sure? Would it be easier if I were here? Or would that make it worse?"

Dean shook his head. Cas could see grief beginning to build in his eyes, though none of the anger he'd feared. "It'll make it worse. But...I appreciate the offer. Just...just go for a walk. If you see me sitting on the porch it's okay to come back."

"Okay." Castiel stood, trying his best to control the shaking in his body. He wished it was entirely the excitement he'd felt before and not the dread he could now feel coming from Dean in harsh, sickening waves. "Do you want me to take Dad?"

"He's gone," Dean answered. "He thought he might have a lead on Sam."

"Okay."

For a second Castiel didn't move. He couldn't, not when Dean was sitting there looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. _Just go_, he told himself. He wasn't going to get better until this was done and over with.

So Cas went to the door, casting one final glance back at the man sitting with his face now buried in his hands.

And he walked.

At first the half blood had intended to simply go in circles around the block. He'd do that, he thought, until he saw Dean sitting outside. Instead he found himself continuing onwards until he'd passed the cafe he'd stopped at...had it really been mere days? From there he made his way down to the auto shop, until finally he'd reached the bar Dean had been parked outside of on their first meeting. He could use a drink. He could definitely use a drink.

It was just after four, so the bar hadn't picked up too much. A group of guys were gathered around the pool table, laughing and joking with each other in an easy manner that suggested they worked together, and a young couple sat at the bar. Cas picked a small table tucked away in a corner, ordered a hard lemonade and watched the pool game, hoping it would help distract him.

It became very evident very quickly that the game was _not _going to be of any assistance, so Castiel settled back in his seat and let his mind wander. The sheer volume of grief and dread that had poured from Dean's aura had nearly been enough to harm Cas's sensitive empathic abilities. It had felt as though he were being overrun by the man's emotions, as though they had sought to push out his own so that they could tuck themselves somewhere distant and safe. And he was still going through with it, Cas thought with a little shiver. He felt sorry for Carmen, none of this was her fault and she certainly didn't deserve to have Dean stolen right out from under her, yet no matter how hard he tried he could not bring himself to feel guilty. That was good, he supposed. They didn't need to add guilt to an already tangled mess. Especially not now, when he'd found the end of the rope and was finally working those tangles out.

Cas was so lost in thought that he didn't notice when Amor sat down beside him, not until the Cherub put a hand on his arm. Pulling in a deep breath, as though he'd forgotten to breathe at all during his thoughts, Castiel turned in his seat to face his Father. The Cherub stared back at him, head cocked curiously, looking so hopeful that Castiel felt a grin begin to form on his face.

"He kissed me," Cas murmured, and when he said it somehow it became more real. For a glorious moment all the negative that had transpired in the last few days was swept away in a tidal wave of pure euphoria. Dean had kissed him!

Amor whooped and threw his arms around his son, oblivious to the multitudes of eyes that came to suddenly focus on them in both confusion and hesitant amusement. Castiel hugged him back, grinning like a complete fool, ignoring the stares and the feelings that accompanied them.

"He didn't freak out, did he?" Amor asked, sitting back abruptly and looking worriedly into Cas's eyes. The moment he saw the half blood's grin his worry melted into a grin of his own, even goofier than his son's. "Oh, he didn't! I see it! Don't worry about Carmen, she and Dean wouldn't have stayed together even if you hadn't found him."

Though Castiel had yet to feel any guilt the comment still eased him, somehow. "Did you find anything about Sam's whereabouts?"

Amor shook his head, his expression clouding so quickly and completely that it startled Cas. "No, nothing. And now it seems Lilith is getting involved. That information _may _be iffy, though. It came from..." Amor paused, glancing around with uncharacteristic paranoia. He leaned in close and whispered Gabriel's name in Cas's ear.

"He's involved?" Cas said in surprise. He knew of Gabriel, or Loki, from stories Amor had told him as a child. He'd never seemed like one to help humanity.

Amor nodded. "I'm never sure whether to trust him or not. He hasn't betrayed us yet..." Amor sighed. "I hate this. I _hate _not knowing...I hate not trusting. I hate it. It goes against my nature. Why are you here?"

The last question was thrown in so suddenly that for a moment Castiel had no idea what he was talking about. Then he realized the Cherub couldn't figure out why Cas had left if things were going well with Dean. Rather than explain it aloud he projected the last few hours to Amor's mind and watched understanding bloom in his gaze.

"Ah. I see. I'll stay away a while longer, let you two have a few hours. Then we can't delay any longer."

"We shouldn't delay at all," Castiel pointed out. Dean was getting more frantic for his brother by the second. Even now, at this distance, he could feel it, a persistant thought, a _need _at the back of the soon-to-be-hunter's mind.

An unusual need, Castiel thought. Cas had seen his share of siblings. Some were closer than others but this...it was something he'd never seen before. Were they siblings in soul as well as in blood? That might help to explain their need for each other and Dean's unusual level of protectiveness. But it didn't explain why he was _this _frantic. There was a sheer terror buried beneath layers of tough-guy-act and Castiel couldn't help but think there was a piece of this puzzle hidden carefully under the carpet.

"Azazael isn't going to hurt him," Amor said suddenly. "At least not this quickly. He wouldn't have gone through all this trouble only to kill him. Take a couple hours. The more you bond with Dean now the stronger you'll both be for it."

Cas opened his mouth to protest but Amor fairly screamed "No arguing!" and vanished before the half blood could mutter so much as a syllable.

...*...

Carmen wasn't in their room.

For just a moment Dean felt a sense of pure panic. Where had she gone? Had the demons gotten to her? Then he saw a note on the table, a quick scribble that said only:

_We need to talk. I'll be at your parents. Call me when you're ready. NO BACKING OUT. _

_Love you._

The final two words almost killed him. He brushed his finger over them as his resolve wavered. Should he really go through with this? What if it wasn't worth destroying what he had now? What if this mess with Cas turned out to be a complete waste of time and he lost one of the best things that had ever happened to him?

On the other hand...what if Cas turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to him?

Amor had been so adamant. So desperate to make him understand that Dean _couldn't _understand, not until he chose to 'risk it.' Once more he brushed his fingers across the words. So, it came down to that. Was he willing to risk it or not?

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell.

Now that he was calmer, he wasn't surprised she had snuck out. Even if he didn't want to talk, Dean had never just blown her off like that. He was only grateful she had decided to give him some space and wait for his call rather than demand an explanation right then and there. She knew him so well...

For just a second Dean felt tears spring to his eyes, nasty little stings that made him feel weak. There was nothing he hated more than feeling weak, so he gave an angry growl to frighten the irritating bastards away and punched the call button with more force than was needed.

"Dean?" Carmen's voice was sleepy and slurred when she answered. Despite the situation she had still managed to fall asleep; long hours working at night did that to you. "Hey, I was going to talk to you but you looked...busy. Figured you'd call when you were ready."

"Hey. Yeah." Dean's voice was an uncertain murmur. "I'm sorry about earlier. About just leaving like that, without telling you what was going on. Mom and Dad give you the whole scoop?"

"Most of it." He could hear Carmen shifting, likely sitting up on the couch. "I was shocked about Jessica. I can't believe...I feel like I should have known somehow, you know? I mean, we were kind of friends. I feel so sorry for Sam." Another shift, a sudden, sharp sound, like she was trying to clear her throat. "Dean...I need to ask you something."

"Okay." Great. He got to avoid the subject just a little longer. He grabbed hold of the delay as though it were a life line, even though his better sense told him to just get it over with.

"I followed you after a few minutes. I was so surprised you just left like that, I thought maybe you were angry but I didn't know why. I saw you...I saw you leaning over your friend and at first I thought you were checking on him but then...well, it looked like you were _smelling _him, like you do to me sometimes when you think I'm asleep."

Oh, crap. Apparently he was going to have to get this over with right on schedule.

"Carmen...I..._fuck," _the curse was soft but still managed to travel through to it's destination. He heard a sharp, shocked intake of breath and began to talk, too quickly, trying to get it all out at once before the knot in his stomach and his hammering heart managed to choke him. "You're right, I was, and it's all messed up because I don't like guys but I feel so _weird _when he's around, but a good kind of weird, you know? God, Carmen, I can just brush his hand and it's the same as if you and I were naked and tangled up and half way there. I don't understand it but...but I think I have to..."

"Stop!" Carmen's voice was sharp with upset but not the anger Dean was expecting. He heard her take several deep breaths before she spoke again. "What you're trying to say is...is that we're o-over?"

The little hitch in her voice on the final word almost did Dean in. He nearly began laughing hysterically and trying to claim it was all a prank, they weren't over, it was all okay! Those damn little stinging bastards were behind his eyes again, making his voice thick as he spoke. "I'm sorry," he whispered shakily. "God, Carmen, I'm sorry!"

A quiet intake of breath and a sniffle traveled through the phone. The desire to somehow climb through and soothe away her tears was maddening. "Thanks for being straight with me," she choked out. The choice of words almost, _almost_, made Dean laugh. "How...how is this going to work?"

Dean realized she meant their home. "Stay there for a couple days." He managed to get most of the sentence out without his voice shaking. "Then...we'll be gone."

"Okay." The word was bearly a whisper. "Dean...I love you, you know that, right?"

That was it. All it took were those words for Dean to finally break down. The tears were silent, yet at the same time they were as loud as fireworks as they snaked in salty wet lines down his cheeks. "Yeah," he murmured hoarsely. "I love you, too. I wish...I wish this was different."

"I know. I need to hang up, or I'm going to get angry, and I have this weird feeling I shouldn't be angry. Maybe...we'll talk later?"

Dean nodded even though she couldn't see him. "Yeah. Yeah, later."

She was gone. Dean felt like someone had taken his heart from his chest, beat the crap out of it with a meat tenderizer and then stuffed it back in again, mutiliated and _hurt. _

He went and sat on the porch, phone held limply in one hand.

He waited.

It could have been hours or mere minutes, his blankly staring eyes seemed to have no concept of time. He registered only the fact that it was growing dark when Castiel sat beside him. He heard a rustle and a soft clink as Cas set something down but it seemed so unimportant that he didn't even glance over to see what it was. The half blood shifted, like he was going to put an arm around Dean, then he seemed to think better of it and set his hands in his lap instead.

"Go ahead," Dean murmured. He'd just sacrificed Carmen for this, there was no way he was going to let Cas continue to be as hesitant as he had up until now.

Cas shifted again, then Dean felt a comfortingly heavy arm settle across his shoulders. He waited for more, expecting Castiel's cherub nature to take over, but nothing more came. The half blood only watched him, his eyes sad and sympathetic, and played his fingers gently over Dean's shoulder through his shirt. It was perfect, Dean thought with more surprise than he knew he should have felt. Cas had been able to sense him since the beginning. Still, Dean had not quite expected this offering of comfort, with enough contact to feel reassuring but pulled back enough so as to not be suffocating. Nor had he expected the silence. Cas made no demands to hear Dean's feelings, didn't try to get him to say he was okay. He just watched him and waited with all that infuriating patience of his.

Suddenly, Dean didn't like this. He didn't like that Cas could feel him well enough to know exactly what he needed, yet he couldn't feel Cas at all. So he concentrated, imagining that there was some kind of line between them that allowed their feelings to pass back and forth. It hit him so suddenly it was almost a shock; the sympathy and sadness he could so clearly see in the blue, blue eyes, yet also a joy so intense that for a moment Dean felt it as his own. It filled him with warmth, banishing, however briefly, the grief that had been threatening to consume him. And beyond that was something else, a sense that Cas was indeed holding himself precariously in check so as to not overwhelm Dean.

Screw it, Dean thought.

He lifted his own arm and put it around Cas's waist. There was a brief, surprised widening of the half blood's eyes and then Dean could see nothing more because Cas had _enveloped _him. Arms gripped tight while hands roved desperately across his back. Words in a langauge Dean didn't understand were whispered frantically in his ear before lips began to brush butterfly-soft kisses across his neck. Had it been anyone else such a frantic dispaly of affection would have driven him far beyond even the highest level of his comfort zone. As it was, each shift of Cas's hands, each touch of his mouth against his skin, seemed to chase his grief further and further away, replacing it with warmth and an odd, shivering kind of joy he'd never experienced before. So he tilted back his head, flashed a quick grin at the half blood, and let him have at it.

Just as suddenly as he'd begun, Castiel stopped. He pulled himself forcibly away from Dean and sat back, breathing hard, eyes closed, lips parted. Dean found himself staring at those lips, felt excitement zing down his spine as he began to lean forward. He wanted to feel them again, he thought distantly...

"No." Gently, Castiel lifted a hand and placed it against Dean's chest, stopping his motions. "We only have a little bit longer before Dad comes back."

"So?" Dean slid closer, pushing passed the weak restraint of Cas's hand. Had he truly wanted to keep him back, Dean thought, he would have been able to. "Little bit is better than none."

"True." Castiel grinned suddenly, almost wolfishly. The expression pulled a startled laugh from the other man. "But if I keep touching you, we'll never find Sam."

That snapped Dean back to reality. "Damn. Just when I was starting to get nice and forgetful..." Dean muttered aggitatedly.

Cas chuckled and reached behind him. The crinkle Dean had heard earlier was a white and red grochery sack. "Here. This helps you forget, too." He pulled the sack away and placed a six pack of Budweiser in Dean's lap.

Dean just stared.

"I found a ten dollar bill outside the bar when I was coming back," Castiel said. "A six pack was all I could get with it."

Dean didn't care. The fact that Cas had even thought of it meant the world to him.

Pulling one beer free, Dean set the others down and cracked the first one open. Part of him was grateful that Cas had pulled back, he realized. Despite how nice it had been, he wasn't ready to try anything more. Not yet, not with the grief of losing Carmen still hovering so close. Not with a lifetime of heterosexuality demanding to know what the _hell _he thought he was doing. He told said sexuality to go fuck itself (it probably needed it, anyway) and then told himself that Cas wasn't going to push it. The half blood would let him go slow.

The last thought sent a sudden, unexpected surge of affection through Dean. He let himself act on it by reaching out and placing a hand on the back of Castiel's neck. It was something he wouldn't have done to Carmen; she hadn't even really liked being kissed there. Cas, on the other hand, sighed quietly and leaned back into his hand. Daring to open that line again, Dean felt a contentment pouring from Cas that was so pure it seemed like he should have been purring. The thought made Dean chuckle and he heard Castiel laugh in return. Had he picked up on that thought through their connection?

"I didn't expect you to be open to this so quickly." Castiel's words confirmed Dean's suspicion.

"I didn't, either," Dean replied with a shrug. "I didn't even know I could do it."

He started to say more but was stopped by a sound that could only be described as a _squeal. _Though he didn't have to see to know who'd made such a girly sound, Dean looked up anyway to find Amor standing in front of them.

"I'm sorry!" Amor said cheerfully, not sounding sorry at all. "Cas understands but I don't think you have any idea what this is doing to me. This is what Cherubs _exist _for! Oh, oh...I'm sorry, I have to!" He darted forward and flung his arms around Dean's neck.

"Okay, okay," Dean muttered uncomfortably, patting Amor awkwardly on the shoulder. When Amor refused to release him Dean let out a defeated sigh and hugged him back.

"Did you find anything on Sam?" Dean asked as soon as Amor had sat back.

The Cherub's expression fell. "No. Nothing. Speaking of that, though, we should start you on hand to hand."

Dean sighed; great, more training. He nodded, though, and heaved himself up from the stairs, offering a hand to Cas before he even thought to do so. "I might know a little," He said as they made their way inside. "I used to get into fights at school all the time. Never lost."

Cas glanced at him dubiously, then chuckled and shared a look with his Father. Dean glared at them both; he just knew they'd seen that fight with Cory Jensen in high school. He'd gone after the guy for bullying Sam (actually, now that he thought about it, almost every fight he'd ever gotten into was over Sammy) and had wound up in the hospital with a broken arm and nose. He'd come to find out later that Cory had been raised by a Dad who had a black belt in karate, though, so he'd decided it didn't count.

Then again, he was going to be facing things far more dangerous than a seveteen year old with a decent martial arts technique. So maybe it was the only one that really did count.

...*...

Sam had always been the emotional Winchester. He was the first to share what he was feeling, the first to empathize with others. He was the only person in the entire family that could get Dean to (kind of) share his own feelings by simply giving him his puppy stare and saying a few choice words. He almost never got angry if there was another, less dangerous emotion readily available, which had always irked his older brother. Anger was the best choice, he'd say, and then he'd puff out his chest and pretend like he was just that manly.

Well, Dean would have been proud of him now.

Sam was _beyond pissed. _In fact, he'd passed pissed several exits back, along with route Angry and junction Rage. If he had to guess he would say he'd planted himself quite firmly somewhere between Hysterical Street and Insanity Lane. The fact that he was laying his emotions out like a road map didn't help his case, nor did the sheer amount of damage lying in spectaclur shards at his feet.

What had happened to his life? Less than a week ago he'd been one of the top students in his class, he'd had the best girlfriend anyone could hope for and he'd been about to marry her. His life had been as close to perfect as it could get.

Now he was stuck in the basement level of an unknown building, whisked there by who-the-hell-knew what. His girlfriend was dead. Who knew if he'd ever see his college again, or even the outside of this building. Demons and vampires and all manner of nightmare creatures actually _existed_.

And then there was the matter of his Cherub.

Damn it, _the _Cherub! Sam cursed himself and kicked a nearby, splintered table. Mere seconds after meeting Amor the Cherub had somehow become _his. _Every time he thought of Amor it was always _his. _At first he hadn't even noticed. It had felt oddly natural to have Amor around and he'd decided it must be the combination of Angel and Believer. But that didn't explain why he kept thinking of Amor as his. The strange thing was it didn't feel possessive, it just seemed like a fact. A well known, well established fact that made him smile every time he saw the angel and thought of it.

Sam kicked the table again, ignoring the dull, throbbing pain it caused in his foot. What bothered him more than anything was that he was thinking about Amor more than Jessica. He missed her fiercely, and was still determined to destroy the thing that had killed her, yet...yet what? He was thinking about an angel more than his dead girlfriend. How did he justify that?

Again, Sam lashed out, this time slamming his hand into a mirror he had already smashed twice. Blood dripped from his palm but the pain was dull and distant. He didn't. He didn't justify it.

To distract himself, Sam looked around at his handiwork. No more than a second had passed between standing in the doorway with Dean and appearing in this basement, with no explanation as to what had happened or who had brought him here. He'd spent what he thought must have been hours trying to get out but the only door wouldn't budge no matter what he did to it. He'd tried his cell phone but there was no signal. There were no windows, only a vent that was too high for him to reach, even when he'd piled together what little had been stored there. That was when the rage had taken him. He'd smashed the table to pieces with nothing but his feet and his bare hands. The huge, old mirror that had been leaning on the wall had gone next, making him bleed in several places. A printer and a few old computer towers lay in chunks beside the table.

There was only one thing Sam hadn't touched. In the left corner by the door there was a huge refridgerator, one of the double door kinds with the ice machine in the front. It was plugged in and when Sam had opened it he'd found his favorite beer, assorted chocolates (Dean had teased him endlessly when they were kids for his weakness for chocolate) and all the makings for his favorite kinds of salads, complete with a wide variety of dressings. There was also a glass for the beer chilling in the freezer above it. The rational part of Sam's mind had made him leave it; who knew how long he'd be down here? Still, he'd been too afraid to touch it. It scared him more than anything else. Why was it here? Who knew, aside from Jessica and his family, about his favorites? Why had someone taken him to this dank old basement but given him the comfort of good food? It had to be poisoned, right?

He was going to have to find out, sooner or later. His stomach was starting to growl.

A generic ringtone blared suddenly from Sam's pocket. Frantically, he plunged a hand into his jeans pocket and came up with the phone. Hope was in his gaze as he flicked it open, praying he'd see Dean's number, hoping he had somehow stepped into just the right spot with just enough signal. Instead he saw an unknown number. Probably a misdial, he thought, but maybe he could talk them into contacting Dean for him.

"Hello?"

"Hey there, Sammy!" The voice was unfamiliar.

"Don't call me that!" Sam growled automatically; no one called him that but Dean. "Who are you?"

"Soon enough, soon enough," the voice replied coolly. "Sorry about the accomodations, I've got a couple of pests on my tail. Soon as I shake 'em I'll be back to get you. Don't bother trying to call anyone, I'm the only one who can get through to you."

For a moment Sam just stood there, staring stupidly at nothing. "Who are you?" He repeated finally. He didn't know what else to do.

"Let's just say I'm the one who knows who killed your girlfriend."

The line went dead. Sam screamed aloud in frustration and almost threw the phone before common sense bashed him in the head and made him look at the signal instead. Nothing.

Leaning back against the wall, Sam let himself slide down until he was sitting on the cold, concrete floor. He folded his arms on his knees and waited.

What else could he do?

...*...

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks to karmascars for getting me motivated enough to actually get this chapter done. You're awesome! _

...*...

"Ow! Damn it, Cas!"

The half blood sighed, and glanced to his left to share an amused look with his father. Amor shrugged as he tried to stifle a chuckle at Dean's predicament. The last time he'd laughed Dean had been frustrated enough to try to punch him. It hadn't hurt the angel in the slightest, but Amor imagined Dean's hand was still smarting quite a bit from the contact.

Castiel reached out a hand to Dean that the new hunter took with a readiness that was still surprising Cas. It seemed that once Dean had committed himself to something he did so completely, even if it still made him a little uncomfortable. He was trying to hide it from the half blood, but Castiel could sense it through their connection. The other man still found the idea of anything more than a kiss to be quiet frankly terrifying.

"What did I say about kicking?" Castiel admonished as he hauled Dean to his feet.

"Only if I can catch you off guard," Dean muttered irritably. "They always kick the bad guy in movies," he added under his breath.

"This isn't a movie." Cas released Dean's hand and stepped back, settling into fighting stance once again. "It's too easy for someone to grab your leg and drop you like I just did. Now come at me again."

Dean grumbled and muttered and shuffled his feet...and then caught Cas under the chin with a swift and surprising upper cut.

"Ha!" Dean crowed triumphantly when Castiel stumbled back several paces. "How was that?"

"Good." Castiel lifted a hand and rubbed at the reddened patch of skin where Dean's hand had connected. "That was much better. Although if this were a real fight I could have taken you down again while you stood there gloating."

Dean's eyes narrowed in a glare that was so obviously fake that it made Cas chuckle. "Shut up. Just try and take me down again."

Cas let Dean bask in his confident, testosterone-filled glow for a moment before he snapped out his leg, planting his heel in the hard muscle of the other man's stomach. Dean's breath whooshed out of his lungs and his arms came up to encircle his stomach as he bent double. He never even had time to try and recover his breath; as soon as he bent down Cas yanked him forward by his hair and slammed his elbow down on Dean's back. With a defeated groan the man fell face first into the grass.

"Damn it, Cas!" Dean huffed out, his breathless voice muffled by the grass ground into his face. "That hurt!"

The half blood winced. He knelt beside the new hunter and rolled him gently on his back. Dean's eyes were squeezed closed, and there was grass in his hair and stains of green and brown on his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas apologized with a sigh. "But I can't teach you properly without hurting you."

Dean refused to open his eyes, though his hand began to grope randomly around until it found Castiel's knee. "You suck," Dean grumped. "And not in the fun way."

The half blood had a flash of the dream he'd shared with Dean under the pine tree somewhere on the road to Lawrence. He remembered Dean leaping up, laughing like a child as he reached for the light dancing in the branches. The overwhelming feeling of adoration welled up in his chest just as it had then, only this time it was allowed to spill over onto his face. He grinned broadly even though Dean couldn't see, and put a hand over the one on his knee.

"I can suck in the fun way," Castiel commented mildly.

Dean's eyes popped open and met Cas's own with incredulous interest. "Did you just say what I think you just said?"

The half blood didn't answer. He lifted a hand and brushed grass out of Dean's hair. "Tell me what you've learned in the last few hours."

Dean glared at him, but it held just as little heat as his last glare had. "You're a bad ass," Dean muttered, grinning when Castiel chuckled. "And I shouldn't try to kick you."

"And?"

Dean grumbled and closed his eyes again. "Punching Amor is a bad idea?"

"_Dean_."

"Okay, okay!" Dean sat up and opened his eyes, though he didn't remove his hand from Castiel's knee. "I've learned that I'm going to have to get into a fight with something I don't trust before I actually learn anything."

The new hunter scrambled to his feet and hurried over to where he'd left a bottle of water sitting on the back porch step. Cas sat still, eyes wide and stunned as he followed Dean's movements. Dean trusted him. Part of the half blood had already known that, but hearing it openly from Dean's own mouth was...incredible.

Amor plunked himself down in the grass beside his son. "You weren't holding back, were you?"

Cas shook his head. "If I held back it wouldn't do any good."

Amor nodded in agreement as he leaned back on his hands. He titled back his head and closed his eyes, letting the sun wash over his face. Castiel had inherited so much of that face, which seemed a bit funny when he really thought about it, considering his father's physical form wasn't his only form. Still, he supposed it had been the only one that mattered when Amor had been with Cas's mother. There were some distinct differences, though, and Cas realized he'd never actually noticed them before. Amor's cheekbones were sharper, more pronounced, his face more angular. His hair was shaggier, almost curly, and a lighter shade than Castiel's.

"What are you doing observing me when Dean's right over there?" Amor asked lightly, without opening his eyes.

Cas paused a long moment before answering. "I don't think we've ever spent this much time together at once," He said finally. "I just never noticed...I always noticed our similarities, but never our differences."

At that Amor opened his eyes. He sat up and met his son's gaze with that seriousness that Castiel still wasn't used to seeing in the bubbly cherub. "That's changing. I'm here to stay. I'm going to make up for all that time they wouldn't let me see you."

Dean dropped down suddenly beside Cas. At some point he had gone into the house and exchanged his water for a beer, and a hard lemonade was hanging from his other hand. He offered it silently to Cas, who accepted with a small smile and a nod.

"You want something, get it yourself." Dean tossed the comment indifferently in Amor's direction.

The cherub grinned. He could see the comment for what it was; an acceptance of his presence. "I'm fine," Amor said brightly. "I'm just glad to see you're doting on Cas."

Castiel felt the explosion a split second before beer came spewing out of Dean's mouth in vehement protest. "I am _not _doting on Cas!"

Amor grinned.

"Not!" Dean repeated with a growl.

Castiel couldn't help it. He began to chuckle because in his own quiet, secret only to himself way, Dean really was doting on Cas a little.

"You're not fooling anyone," Amor sing-songed happily.

"_SHUT UP!_"

...*...

Sam's phone battery had died an hour ago. Just before it had gone it had informed him that it was almost 1p.m and he'd been here for nearly two days. Had it been an hour? Maybe it had only been a few minutes. Maybe it had been days. Sam's sense of time had been blown to hell the moment the phone went out. There were no windows, so he couldn't guess the time by the sun. He'd counted enough seconds to reach a minute and twenty-two before he'd wanted to get up and smash the mirror some more. Considering he'd already reduced the shards to pebbles, and cut up his hands some more in the process, he'd decided to simply stop counting and start drinking.

It was a bad idea, and logically he knew this. The thing (demon?) that had taken him could return at any moment, and being drunk was not going to help his situation.

Speaking of drunk, when the hell had the beer turned into whiskey? He didn't even like whiskey. Would get him drunk pretty fast, though.

Sam sank down along the wall beside the fridge, clutching the bottle in his hands and worrying at the glass neck with his fingers. The contents of the fridge seemed to change with his mood. Last night, when he'd finally decided to brave the food in the hope that it wasn't poisoned, Sam had discovered that a bacon cheeseburger had appeared on the shelf below the salad makings. Though he wasn't really a fan of burgers, Sam had been known to eat them when he was feeling nervous or frightened because they reminded him of Dean, and thinking of his older brother helped him be calm. Despite the fact that it was sitting in a fridge the burger had been warm when he'd picked it up, and against his better judgement he'd gone and eaten the thing. He wasn't dead yet, so at least he was ninety-nine percent sure the food wasn't poisoned.

And now he had a bottle of whiskey instead of a beer. Sam peered at it, wondering why whiskey. The only association he had with it was his eighteenth birthday, when Dean had brought a bottle home and they'd done shots in his old room upstairs.

Sam's head thumped back against the wall. Dean. Of course. The fridge was giving him things (and wasn't that an odd thought?) that reminded him of Dean.

Replacing the cap, Sam set the bottle on the floor beside him. He'd only taken a couple of drinks, not even enough to get buzzed, but his better judgement was starting to argue rather loudly with the reckless side of his nature.

He was just beginning to consider ignoring said better judgement when the pain struck.

It bloomed behind his eyes, just as it had the first time, a sharp shock that spiked along his nerves and made him cry out in pain. Images began to flash in his mind; a man pulling into his garage, the door closing by itself, the car locking and turning itself on. As he watched the man choked to death from the exhaust, and there was nothing he could do about it.

MF 6037. The license plate.

Sam hung on to that image for all he was worth as the vision faded and he collapsed on the floor, hands pressed into his forehead as though it would somehow help the pain to abate.

Slowly, the pain did begin to fade, until Sam could sit up and lean his head on the wall. There was nothing he could do. A man was dying, maybe already had, and there was _nothing _he could do to stop it. What was the point of having visions if you couldn't do anything about them?

Could he project visions? The thought occurred from nowhere, but it made Sam's head snap up from the wall and his eyes light with hope. He probably couldn't project anything to Dean, he thought excitedly, but he was willing to bet that his cherub might see it. The hope the idea brought was so great he didn't even bother to correct himself on once again using the term 'his.'

Closing his eyes, Sam focused on the vision, on keeping it as clear as he could while imagining that it was flying along some unseen line straight to the cherub's mind. He would try the room next, if it worked. It wasn't much for them to go on, but at least it would make Sam feel like he'd tried something.

_Please see this, _Sam thought fiercely. _Please, Anriel, please see this..._

...*...

The trunk of the Impala slammed closed. Dean stood with his hands against the warm metal, staring almost blankly down at the expanse of black. The three had spent the last two hours filling the trunk with rock salt, silver in the form of both spikes and bullets, a rather mind-blowing array of weaponry, and more fake IDs (and not just the short that got under-aged kids into bars) than Dean had ever seen in his life. There were also two duffel bags with nothing but essentials. Dean's new life fit in the trunk of his car.

It took every bit of his willpower not to burst into panicked laughter.

Even his wallet had been reduced to almost nothing, he thought as he pushed himself off the car. Credit card, debit card, his real ID, social security card, anything that could be associated or traced to him had been...well, _vanished _by Amor. The cherub had wiped his identity from everything, even his bank account. As far as the world was concerned, Dean Winchester no longer existed.

It was unbelievably disconcerting. And just a bit of a thrill.

Dean turned to yell at Cas and Amor that he was ready, only to find Cas standing _right _behind him. "Jeez, Cas, what the hell?!" he barked as he stumbled back a pace.

"Sorry." Castiel smiled ever so slightly in a way that was far more amused than apologetic.

"How did you...?" Dean trailed off, one eyebrow quirked in question. "Can you do that thing Amor does? Just, you know...beam yourself anywhere?"

"Not exactly. I can't "beam", as you put it, anywhere I haven't seen." Cas held up a small bag. "I went home to get my emergency kit and some clothes. I know you packed some of yours for me, and I appreciate that, but I..." the half blood trailed away suddenly, almost avoided Dean's eyes, but in the end he didn't bother. The other man had been surprisingly open about their connection now that he'd accepted it, and he'd only feel what Cas was trying to hide. "I wanted to say goodbye," he said finally.

"To your house?"

Cas shook his head. "Not exactly. The house was never my home, but it does hold some memories. Also, I can't go to my mother or she'll be put in danger, so I just..."

Dean nodded. Lifted a hand and grasped Castiel's shoulder. "I get it," he said quietly. "Throw that in with your duffel. I'll go get Amor. Did we pack food?" He threw the last in as an afterthought as he started towards the steps.

"There's some in the back seat," Castiel called to him.

"Did you remember the pie?"

A quiet chuckle was his only answer, and Dean decided that was a yes. It was imperative that they have pie, he thought as he pushed open the door. Pie made any situation bearable.

He'd made it two steps before a firm grip took hold of his arm. Between one blink and the next he went from standing in the doorway to staring into the office window of a small motel. The electric sign on the window sill told him in glowing red letters that there were vacancies.

What the hell?!

"What the hell?!" Dean yelped aloud, whirling on Amor, who still had a tight hold of his arm.

The cherub's eyes were wide, comically so, though Dean couldn't find it in him to be amused at the moment. "Sorry," Amor muttered. He let go of Dean's arm. "Sam...Sam contacted me."

"What?!" It was Dean's turn to grab Amor. He gripped the cherub's shoulders and shook him, hard, as though he could shake an answer out of him. "How? Is he okay? Did he tell you where he is? Does he know? Is he hurt?"

"All I got was an image," Amor said slowly, distantly. He looked dazed, and his eyes refused to focus on anything. "A vision he'd had, and the words...'Please, Anriel, please see this.'"

Dean was opening his mouth to ask who the hell Anriel was, but before he could utter so much as a syllable Amor vanished. When Dean whirled around, hoping somehow to find him, he was faced with nothing but a nearly empty parking lot.

Dean was just about to begin yelling obscenities to the air when a soft whoosh and a sudden puff of wind announced the arrival of Amor, Cas, and the Impala. Dean was getting ready to yell obscenities anyway, and curse a certain cherub while he was at it, but was stopped by Amor letting out a sharp yell and collapsing onto the pavement.

"Dad!" Castiel dropped to his knees beside Amor. "You shouldn't have brought the car."

"Had to," Amor groaned. "Has all the stuff. Oh, ow ow ow. Dean! I would just like to inform you that I am _not _doing that again!"

Dean knelt beside Cas, glancing towards him questioningly before turning his attention to the cherub. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm beautiful," Amor chuckled. He lifted a hand and pressed the palm against his forehead. "I'm an angel, I'm not all-powerful," he added, apparently reading the question hovering around in Dean's mind. "Moving a person is one thing, moving people and objects and doing all of it that quickly is...painful. Especially for a cherub, we weren't designed for that sort of thing. Ow. Okay, help me up."

Dean and Cas both extended a hand. Amor took them both, and let the two haul him to his feet. Dean let go immediately, but Cas kept a hand in his father's to help steady him.

"What happened?" Cas asked.

"Sam." Amor took in a deep breath and turned to face Dean. "He's okay, he's not hurt. He had a vision, though, of a man dying in his garage after the car doors locked themselves and the car turned itself on. He showed me the license plate. We're in Saginaw, Michigan."

Dean blinked. Okay, then. They definitely weren't in Kansas anymore. Oh god, had he just thought that? "Okay, why? For that matter, how? Why didn't he tell you were he was, and how the hell did he...I dunno, project that image to you?"

Amor shuffled his feet. Looked down at them in the perfect picture of a reluctant four-year old. "I don't think he knows where he is," the cherub mumbled. "But he wants us to go find whoever caused that man to die. It's one of Azazael's children."

"Dad?" Castiel stepped forward. He reached out and put a hand on the cherub's shoulder. "What are you not telling us?"

"He used my real name!" It was amazing how Amor could explode to life. He shouted the words as though they were some sort of great revelation. "He used...that just confirms...oh _God! _I...I can't..." Amor shoved something suddenly into Dean's hand. "Find the child. I have to..."

The cherub shook his head, his eyes wide and frantic.

"Don't you dare!" Dean growled, but Amor vanished before he could finish his sentence.

"Damn it!" Dean whirled on Castiel, who was attempting to pry something out of Dean's hand. A piece of paper? The man let it go and watched as Cas unfolded it. "What the hell? Seriously, Cas, what the hell? How did Sam contact Amor?"

"I don't know." Castiel held up the paper so that the light of a nearby street light illuminated the words scrawled hastily across the page. "I was beginning to suspect that they were soulmates, like us, but...now I think it's something else. I don't know if angels have soulmates the same way humans do. I..." Cas sighed, lowered the paper. "I don't know. I wish I had an answer for you." He held out the page. "Take a look at this."

A license plate number was scrawled across the page, along with the instructions to use one of the fake IDs in the trunk to obtain the information. Dean wondered if he was supposed to be a bit thrilled at the prospect of impersonating a cop. Probably not, he decided with a shake of his head. It made him think of the nights he had once spent lying awake, wondering why his life felt just a little out of place. Was this why? Had he been meant for this all along?

"Guess we better get a room," Dean said finally. "Think they take cash?"

"It doesn't matter." Castiel reached into his jeans pocket and produced his wallet. "I have a credit card."

Dean frowned. "Wait, didn't Amor wipe your identity, too?"

The half blood grinned, an expression caught somewhere between guilty and excited. "I didn't say it was my card."

"You stole it?!" The moment the shocked words burst from his mouth Dean winced and checked the near vicinity for any prying ears. Fortunately, the parking lot was still all but vacant. "You stole a credit card?" He repeated more quietly.

Cas nodded and ducked his head. "This life, a hunter's life...following the rules isn't exactly a part of it."

Dean hesitated all of two seconds before grasping Castiel's chin and kissing him, hard. The half blood let out a startled 'mmph!' but it didn't take him long to melt into it, and through their connection Dean could feel how pleased Castiel was by Dean's reaction.

"Should I think it's hot that you stole a credit card?" Dean asked roughly. Experimentally, he bent his head and pressed an open mouthed kiss to Castiel's throat. Judging from the way the half blood's whole body went rigid, and the surge of Cas's desire Dean felt mingling with his own, the experiment had definitely produced good results.

"I'm not complaining," Cas replied in a strained voice. "Dean, the manager is watching us."

"What?!" Dean jumped back from Cas as though he'd sprouted spikes across his entire body. A woman who looked to be somewhere in her forties was leaning on the window by the vacancies sign and apparently laughing at Dean's startled reaction.

"How long has she been there?" Dean hissed.

"Since right before you kissed me," Castiel replied easily, as though not embarrassed at all. Dean tried touching the other's emotions through the connection and discovered he really wasn't. It hadn't even occurred to him to be embarrassed.

Dean was opening his mouth to say something about public displays of affection and Cas's nonchalant reaction to it when the door of the office opened and the woman stuck out her head. "I think you'll find a room is a much more comfortable place to continue your activities!" She called out cheerfully.

"Awesome," Dean muttered sarcastically as he firmly ignored the heat rising to his cheeks. "That's just awesome. Go get a room, I'll get our stuff."

The inside of the room turned out to be covered with fish. Fish on the wallpaper, fish on the bedspreads, fish pictures, there were even fish-shaped pillows. Dean let out a snort of disgust as he threw their duffel bags down on the only bed. Fishing was one thing, but Dean wasn't sure how he felt about being _surrounded _by them.

"Talk about sleepin' with the fishes," Dean muttered.

Cas chuckled as he pulled his duffel towards himself. "She has live ones in her office. Ah...Dean, are you comfortable with this?"

"With what?" Where the hell had he put his toothbrush?

"Only one bed. I tried to get two but she wouldn't hear it, kept saying I'd offend you. I tried to tell her we were...new, but she..." Cas chuckled suddenly, although it sounded so suspiciously like a giggle that Dean told himself to tease the half blood for it later. "She told me 'not to be shy.'"

"What?" Dean couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped him at Cas's words. "She told _you _not to be shy? You of the unwavering stare and the stubborn refusal to let me drive you off? Yeah, you're the shy one." Dean blinked, surprised not by his own words but by the realization they caused. "You know, Cas, you're kinda awesome." He didn't say that he'd treated the half blood poorly or that he regretted it because that was just a little too chick flick for him, and this whole situation was still weird enough as it was.

Castiel's grin would have told Dean all he needed to know about just how much the new hunter's words had pleased Cas, even if he hadn't been able to feel that pleasure like it was his own. "So...?" Cas put a hand on the bed, and there was that unwavering stare Dean had mentioned.

Comfortable? Dean's immediate reaction was to hide the fact that he wasn't, not at all, but there was no point when the half blood could feel it. "No," he admitted. "But I won't be until I actually do it."

Castiel nodded and dropped it. "Your toothbrush is in the red case in the pocket," he mentioned, pointing towards the small pocket on one side of the duffel before he took his own into the bathroom.

Carmen would have dropped it, too. The thought struck like lightning, so quickly that he never had time to put up any kind of defense. Carmen had never been one of those nagging girlfriends who insisted on knowing what was wrong or what he was feeling right then and there. She'd pry it out of him eventually, but she'd let him have his space, too, and he'd always appreciated that more than he could express.

Sinking down on the bed, Dean pressed his palms to his eyes in an attempt to block out the world. He'd been successful in not thinking about Carmen since the frantic make-out session on the front steps with Castiel, but now that she was there it seemed she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. How would she react if she were in this situation with him? Would she be calm or panicked? Would she have remembered to pack pie? Would she have stolen a credit card, and then stood there with an expression that said she'd had just a little more fun than she should have when she stole it? Would she accept the existence of demons and angels? Would she have loved him enough to stick by him while Dean hunted down the demon that had taken his brother?

Dean groaned softly as the painful questions jabbed at his mind, and wondered ridiculously if another frantic make-out session was in order.

When Dean lowered his hands Castiel was standing in front of him, his blue eyes watching with sympathy but none of the pity that would have infuriated Dean. "Don't not think about her, Dean," Cas said gently. "She was a part of your life for a long time, and you loved her."

Dean wanted to brush it off or say he was fine. Instead he just nodded. "I need pie."

"I'll get it out of the car," Cas offered.

"Nah." Dean stood and grabbed Castiel's wrist so he could pull him towards the door. "Let's go out and get it. I'll grab a fake ID, call and find out about the license plate, and it'll go down as one of the weirdest dates I've ever been on." He flashed a playful grin towards Castiel, who smiled in response.

"We can use my stolen credit card," Castiel said as they climbed into the Impala. "Then you'll be able to say you committed two felonies in a single date," he added with a perfectly straight face.

"Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Have I mentioned you're awesome?"

...*...

"Ulien!"

The cherub wasn't answering him. Had Amor been a more violent soul he might have kicked the tree he was currently leaning against, but instead he just let his head fall back against it and cursed whatever demon or other supernatural issue was keeping his friend from answering. He _needed _to talk, damn it!

"Ulien can't come to the phone right now, can I take a message?"

Oh god, he knew that voice. Amor lifted his head from the trunk of the tree to find Gabriel standing in front of him, his usual smirk planted firmly on his lips. "If I leave a message with you it might get...garbled."

Gabriel laughed. "Garbled, how delicate of you!" He said with genuine mirth. "Come on, love boy, what's your problem?"

Amor grinned. He couldn't help it! He liked Gabriel, even if he didn't fully trust him. "Things just keep getting more and more complicated," he said vaguely. "What are you doing here?"

Gabriel shrugged. "I found the kids, they were after our boy Azazael, only they kind of disappeared. Thought you might wanna know."

"Disappeared?" Amor repeated with a confused frown.

"Yeah. Disappeared. As in poof, nada, vanished. Thinkin' maybe angel wards."

"That must be why Ulien isn't answering," Amor murmured, more to himself than Gabriel. "He must be trying to find them. Gabriel, do you know where they disappeared?"

"Detroit," the trickster answered immediately. "No idea where, though. Even if I did, wouldn't do you much good if it's angel wards."

Amor grinned. "Ah, that's okay," he said easily. "I have a trick or two up my sleeve! Thank you for telling me about this."

Gabriel shrugged again. "Whatever," he said breezily, and before Amor could respond he disappeared.

...*...

For a reason entirely unknown to him, Castiel had never been able to eat pie without making a mess of some kind. It had always been something of a secret between himself and Amor (even his mother didn't know, as he'd never actually eaten pie in front of her). Now Dean was in on the secret, and Castiel was both pleased and mortified by how amused the other man was by his mess-making abilities.

"Dude, how did you get it on your nose?" Dean asked with a chuckle as he reached across the table and wiped a smear of blueberry from the end of Cas's nose.

The half blood went cross-eyed trying to watch Dean's fingers, which made the new hunter laugh. "What did you find out about the license plate?" he countered in an attempt to avoid explaining his sometimes messy eating habits.

Dean started to wipe his finger off on a napkin, then changed his mind and licked it instead. Castiel reminded himself firmly that leaping across the table and ravishing Dean was not an option. Yet. "Car belongs to a guy called Jim Miller," Dean said after glancing at the notes he'd made while on the phone. "I have an address, we can go there in the morning."

They paid for their pie with Cas's stolen card, and Castiel didn't fail to notice how Dean dragged his feet as they made their way back to the Impala. He'd had a feeling that going out had actually been Dean's way of avoiding the fact that they would be crawling into the same bed, and Dean's reluctance enforced that feeling. When he opened their connection, Castiel felt doubt, fear, and an excitement that was only making the former feelings worse.

"Dean, I can sleep on the floor if you'll be more comfortable." Cas tried to make the suggestion sound casual, and cursed himself when it came out strained and forced instead.

"No," Dean replied immediately. "I'm not making you sleep on the floor just because I'm...jumpy."

The man's tone was final, so Castiel let the matter drop.

Dean continued to stall at the motel. While he spent far more time than necessary brushing his teeth, Castiel retrieved two silver knives from his duffel and slipped one under each pillow. He set a bag of salt within easy reach and decided that was plenty of precaution, so he stripped down to his tee and boxers and climbed into the bed.

Dean emerged from the bathroom and walked quietly to the bed. He poked the bag of salt with his toe. Checked his pillow for the knife. Silently, Cas wondered if Dean had been meant for this from the start. He hadn't even been on a real hunt yet and he was already checking to make sure all the precautions were in place.

"Dean?"

The new hunter looked down at the half blood. "Yeah?"

"Just get in bed."

Dean paused one more second and then finally began to pull off clothes. Castiel shut his eyes, hoping that would make the other man more comfortable, though he didn't stop himself from reaching out when he felt Dean pull back the covers. His hand came to rest on what felt like Dean's bicep.

"You can open your eyes," Dean said with a chuckle that was both nervous and amused.

Cas did, and discovered that Dean had left about six inches of space between them. Not so much as to be discouraging, but enough to let him breathe.

"I should warn you," Cas mentioned as he let his fingers trail over Dean's arm. "Since I'm half cherub I'll probably end up draped all over you."

Dean nodded. "Carmen used to do that, too. I know it bugs a lot of guys, but I never really cared so long as I didn't get too hot."

"Good." Cas settled deeper into his pillow and closed his eyes again.

The quiet rustle of Dean shifting against the sheets made Cas crack open one eye. The other man had adjusted himself so that his head was right beside Castiel's, and his eyes were already closed.

"G'night, Cas," Dean murmured sleepily.

Castiel smiled. "Goodnight, Dean."

...*...

TBC

_I have been waiting since the beginning of this fic for the right time to start working in Dean's overusage of the word "awesome." :-D. Please review! Reviews make me update faster! :-D :-D_


	11. Chapter 11

_Bundles of awesomeness go to karmascars for editing this chapter, and for encouraging (demanding!) me to keep going. Thanks karma! Oh, and everyone, go read her story **Learning To Drive. **Because it rules. _

_...*..._

_Draped _was not a word that accurately described what Castiel was doing to Dean when he was pulled groggily from sleep the next morning. _Sprawled _didn't quite make the cut, either. _Wrapped around _might have been a start, but it just wasn't emphatic enough. The most accurate description his sleepy brain could supply was _fused_.

Sometime during the night Cas had closed the gap between them, and proceeded to tangle himself so thoroughly around Dean that he really wasn't sure where his limbs ended and Cas's began. There was an arm around his waist, and another twisted oddly under his neck and around his shoulder. One of Cas's legs had worked itself between Dean's while the other was hooked over his calf. His head was buried in Dean's throat, and his hair was tickling the new hunter's chin. Yup, Dean thought with an amused smile, Cas was definitely fused to him. Dean felt like it should bug him, just a little, but when he really thought about it he was glad it didn't. Cas was part cherub, he reminded himself, and cherubs seemed pretty damn touchy-feely. It would have put an awkward strain on the relationship if Dean was pushing him away all the time.

Speaking of awkward...

Dean shifted uncomfortably as his morning erection made itself known. It wasn't anything unusual for him, but the situation...well, it wasn't normal, that was for sure. Though Dean knew eventually he'd have to suck it up and just _do it, _part of him was still terrified at the prospect of being with another man. He'd never been homophobic (hell, he'd suspected Sammy was flexible since they were teens) but he'd never imagined himself in that situation, either. Dean had always adored women; the way they moved, the way they thought, the way they were put together. Everything about women had fascinated him since he'd gotten a hold of his first dirty magazine when he was seven. Now here he was, plastered literally from head to toe with another man. A man who was half angel, no less, and while Dean could admit with surprising ease that he found Castiel to be unbelievably hot (a fact he could only assume had to do with the whole soulmate thing) the thought of doing anything more than kissing him...

Dean let out a sudden groan, and would have smacked his forehead if he were capable of moving without disturbing Cas, because suddenly he knew why he was so terrified. Yes, this was new, and yes, Cas was a man, and that was scary as hell, but when he thought about it Dean could remember a time when being with a woman was just as terrifying, because he hadn't known what to do. He'd been inexperienced, and worried that somehow that inexperience would ruin everything.

Castiel pulled in a sudden, deep breath. When he shifted to tilt back his head, his lids still half closed and his expression thoroughly content, his stomach brushed lightly across Dean's crotch. Dean bit his lip as his hips jerked forward, instinctively seeking firmer contact.

"Dean?" Castiel was abruptly awake and wide-eyed as he felt the evidence of Dean's arousal pressing into his stomach.

"Sorry," Dean muttered, embarrassed. He tried to disentangle himself from Cas, but the half-blood wasn't having it.

"No." Cas slid upwards a bit, so that their hips aligned perfectly. "Dean, it's okay." A hand slid into the small of Dean's back and pressed down, holding him in place. The half-blood leaned forward so that his forehead was pressed against Dean's. "Relax," he murmured, and then, slowly, he rolled his hips against Dean's.

There was nothing between them but the thin fabric of their boxers. Dean could feel how hard Castiel was, could feel the heat pouring from him as they pressed against each other. A low groan escaped the man's throat, and he decided he didn't give a _damn _how inexperienced he was. He rolled Cas easily on his back and ground against him like a crazed teenager.

"Dean!" Castiel threw back his head while his hands came up to grip Dean's arms. There'd be bruises there later, Dean thought absently as he felt the half-blood's fingers dig deep into the muscles.

Dean dipped his head and brushed his lips against Castiel's exposed throat. The half-blood let out a deep, quiet moan, and Dean made a mental note: Cas's neck = sensitive place.

"Gonna make you cum," Dean growled in Castiel's ear. Cas's whole body bucked beneath his, pressing their erections more firmly together and making Dean gasp as the pleasure of it rolled down his spine. "Gonna make you cum so hard," Dean repeated, experimentally, and was rewarded when Cas actually cried out.

"You like that?" Dean grinned when Castiel began to shake beneath him. Their hips bucked more frantically together, and Dean began to wonder why the hell he'd been so scared of this when it felt _so good. _

Planting his hands on either side of Cas, Dean lifted his upper half so that he could see the half-blood's face. Castiel's eyes had rolled back in his head, and his breath was coming in quick, short pants as he lost all sense of rhythm and just _ground _against Dean, and all Dean could think was that it was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life.

"Dean...Dean, going to..." Cas's fingers tightened around his arms, so hard there should have been pain, only Dean was so high on the pleasure that if there was pain it couldn't touch him.

"Yeah." Dean lowered himself over Cas again, and bent his head to lick the shell of Castiel's ear. "Yeah, cum for me, Cas."

That was all it took. Castiel went rigid beneath him, and his mouth opened in a silent scream as he came, shuddering, against Dean. A few more frantic thrusts and Dean was burying his face in the half-blood's throat as he tumbled over the edge after him.

For a few moments the two lay limply, ignoring the sticky, rapidly cooling mess between them. Dean began to chuckle suddenly, the sound muffled against Cas's throat. The half-blood huffed out something that might have been a question, but couldn't seem to get up enough energy to actually form one.

"We didn't even get our boxers off," Dean muttered with amusement.

"I didn't want to give you that much time to think," Castiel answered breathlessly. "I know that was a small step, but I thought if you went through with it what comes next would be more comfortable for you."

Dean nuzzled lazily into Cas's shoulder, and he tried thinking about going further. It still made him nervous, but the sheer terror he'd felt before was gone. "Thanks, Cas," he murmured gratefully.

A hand came up so that fingers could play lazily with the hair at the nape of Dean's neck. "You're welcome. We should take a shower."

Dean grinned wolfishly into the skin he was leisurely exploring, and wondered if it looked anything like the grin Castiel had given him back on the front steps of what had once been home. "Yeah, _we _should definitely take a shower."

"Mm." Castiel turned his head so he could press a kiss to Dean's temple. "Are you sure?"

"More sure than I was fifteen minutes ago." Dean's tone was a little lighter than he actually felt, but that was okay. Cas knew, and it was more than a little bit of a relief not having to explain. "Just...nothing too...you know..."

The half-blood chuckled. "I know. Although, there's something I should tell you."

"Hm?"

When Cas spoke again, it was directly in Dean's ear. "Do you remember when I said I could 'suck in the fun way?' I wasn't kidding."

It took a second, but when the implication of Castiel's words sunk in Dean pushed himself abruptly up onto his palms so he could see the other man. "Wait, are you telling me you've got, you know, experience in this?"

Cas nodded. His brow was drawn tight in a pensive expression, and Dean could feel nerves bundled tightly with hope radiating from him. "I knew before I met you that you were a man," the half-blood explained. "I could feel it, somehow. I knew that there was a strong possibility that you would be straight, and I didn't want both of us to be inexperienced..."

A tiny blush colored Castiel's cheeks, and he looked away abruptly. "There was a club in town, not far from where I worked. If you...if you know where to go, and who to talk to...you can get just about anything."

Dean blinked. Rolled the words around in his head. Blinked again, and started to grin. "You hired a hustler!?"

Castiel winced. "Sort of," he replied hesitantly. "It was a little more sophisticated than that, but basically, yes. His name was Sebastian. He came to my house every night for two months."

"Two months?" Dean couldn't help a low whistle. "Wow. So, you really know your way around this."

Cas nodded. "Does it bother you?"

"Hell no." Did he like the idea of some random dude rolling around with Cas? No, not really. But Dean could see the sentiment behind it, and considering just how inexperienced he really was, he greatly appreciated it. He didn't bother to express it out loud; he knew Cas could feel his gratitude when he saw the half-blood smile.

"So." Cas wriggled beneath him, and oh, look at that. Dean hadn't bounced back that fast since he was a teenager. "Shower?"

"Shower," Dean agreed, and then he was off the bed and in the bathroom so fast that he could hear Castiel laughing at him as the half-blood followed.

...*...

Sam was in the middle of another vision when it happened.

He was watching a window come down on a man's neck when he felt hands on his shoulders. They were small hands, very feminine, but they were tugging at him with a strength that was something more than human. A sharp, snarky voice was yelling at him to get up, get up now, and Sam's pain-addled mind refused to admit that whoever had a hold of him might be a threat. As the vision faded he let those small hands tug him to his feet and pull him, stumbling, towards the door.

Which was open.

"Who are you?" Sam managed to grind out around the pain still throbbing behind his eyes.

"In a minute!" the unknown woman hissed. "Just shut up and keep moving, we don't have a lot of time!"

The pain began to recede and Sam's brain kicked in, demanding to know who and what and _why? _On the other hand, they'd just passed the door that Sam had been unable to so much as budge since arriving here, and she appeared to be trying to lead him out of the building. Run now, ask questions later, Sam decided.

The woman let go of him the second it became apparent that he could move on his own. She gestured sharply towards a set of stairs Sam could barely see; there were no lights in this room. The only reason he could see them at all, he realized, was because there was sunlight shining from under the door at the top of those stairs.

"Come on!" The woman snapped impatiently, and without another word she took off running.

It took Sam all of two seconds to run after her. Okay, so he didn't know her, but as far as he could tell she was trying to free him, and it was better than waiting around for a demon to show up.

The sunlight burned his eyes when the woman flung open the door. There had been light in the basement, but it had been weak at best, and the intensity of the sun damn near blinded him. When he hesitated, throwing up a hand to shield his gaze from the light, the woman let out a frustrated _snarl, _grabbed Sam's arm and hauled him up the last few steps and into the day.

"We gotta move, Sam!" Using the grip she still had on his arm, the woman began to haul Sam down the sidewalk. A few people cast them odd glances as they passed.

"Who are you?" Sam lowered his hand as his eyes began to slowly adjust to the considerably brighter light. "Why are you helping me? Are you helping me?"

"I'm Ruby. I'm helping you, okay, but you gotta wait until we get away from here or Azazael will find you again."

The moment she said the name Sam felt immensely stupid. Of course it was Azazael who'd taken him! The demon with the yellow eyes was the first thing Castiel had warned them about. The question was how? Amor had hidden him with the marks on his ribs, so how had Azazael found him?

Hang on, how did he know the marks were on his ribs? Sam shook his head; right, that was what he should be focusing on!

"Where are we going?" Sam asked. He was keeping up on his own now, and Ruby had let go of his arm.

"A motel room, I've got protection there. Azazael won't find us."

_He shouldn't be able to find me anyway, _Sam started to say, but some instinct made him keep quiet.

It wasn't until Ruby was opening the door to a cheap motel room that Sam thought to ask, "Do you have a phone?"

"Yeah, but wait a minute." Ruby shut the door and grabbed Sam's arm with that shocking strength when he tried to dive for the phone on the bedside table. "Sam, wait! You need to know what's going on before you call your brother."

The rage Sam had been growing frighteningly accustomed to over the last few days flared hotly in his chest. He whirled around to face Ruby, his expression twisting with the force of his anger. "How do you know my brother? How do you know _me?_"

"Every demon knows who you and your brother are," Ruby replied impatiently. She brushed passed Sam and began to dig through a backpack laying on the bed.

"You're a demon?" Sam's anger began to fade as confusion roared in to take its place. A demon had just saved him from another demon? Wait, no, that didn't make any sense! "Wait, are you helping me, or helping you?"

Ruby let out a frustrated growl. "I'm helping you, okay!?" She turned sharply, and threw a small, cloth bag in Sam's direction. Sam caught it deftly, without really even looking at it, his eyes still too focused with doubt and confusion on Ruby. "Keep that on you, it'll hide you from other demons."

Once again, Sam had to choke down the urge to tell her that he should already be hidden. He glanced at the bag before hesitantly pocketing it. "What is it?"

"A hex bag," Ruby answered dismissively. "What do you know about Azazael?"

Sam hesitated. He thought about trying to contact Amor again, but doing something that required that much concentration in front of a demon seemed risky, no matter how weirdly helpful said demon appeared to be. "I know his blood is inside me," he said finally. "And that it gave me visions. I know he did that to other kids, too."

Ruby nodded. "Okay, but do you know why?"

Sam shook his head.

The demon sighed, and sat down heavily on the bed. "I don't either," she confessed. "For the longest time everyone thought he was building up some kind of army on earth, now the plan seems to be finding this one specific child and preparing him for something, only no one knows what exactly. Looks like you're that child."

"Great," Sam muttered sarcastically. "You said every demon knows Dean and I, why?"

"You were supposed to be hunters," Ruby answered. "You and Dean were supposed to grow up hunters, and your brother has just as much of a role to play as you do in all of this. But something went wrong, and you grew up normal instead. That's why you should think twice before you call Dean. Whatever's going on, it might be easier to avoid if you two stay split up."

"Forget it." Sam took what he hoped was a threatening step forward, even though he knew the demon was stronger. "Look, I appreciate the help, even if you are a demon, but just tell me where I am so I can get back to Dean."

The demon rolled her eyes, but answered reluctantly, "You're in Detroit." She stood up and grabbed her bag.

Sam paused half way to the phone, his eyes narrowing suspiciously towards Ruby. "Where are you going?"

"Anywhere but here," Ruby replied. "If the rumors are true, your brother's got an angel on his shoulder, and I don't want anything to do with angels. They tend to smite first and ask questions later. See ya later, Sam."

"Wait, I-" Sam blinked, and the demon was gone. "-thanks," he finished, though it came out as more of a question than a statement of gratitude.

...*...

Castiel had learned two things about Dean that morning. One, the man liked to talk dirty, and that was so much more than okay with the half-blood. It was a little kink he'd discovered during his second week with Sebastian, when they'd begun to wander into some experimental territory.

Two, Dean was surprisingly playful.

Both men had been obviously, almost painfully interested in round two by the time they climbed under the hot water together, but now that the urgency had been somewhat tempered, and Dean was more comfortable, things were progressing at a leisurely (and rather silly) pace.

Someone had told Castiel when he was a boy that men did not giggle, but that was most definitely the sound he was making as Dean mercilessly attacked his sides with soap-slick fingers. Castiel squirmed and gripped Dean's arms in a too-tight grip, and he laughed breathlessly as his body fought with itself over whether to get away or press closer.

"S-stop it!" Cas gasped.

Dean grinned and bent down to nip at the shell of Cas's ear. "Make me," he challenged playfully, and redoubled his efforts.

"Oh, I-I'll make you," Castiel stuttered around his gasps, and then without warning he dropped to his knees.

"Hey, what're...holy shit!"

It had taken him a while, but Castiel had slowly learned how to relax so that the gag reflex didn't overwhelm him, so when he took Dean in it was all the way. Fingers curled into his hair and gripped carefully, almost too carefully. Castiel would have frowned if he could have; he didn't want Dean to be careful. He wanted Dean to come apart, to lose control. In an effort to make that happen, Castiel began to hum around the hard length in his throat. Dean let out a strangled half-cry above him, and his fingers tightened in the half-blood's hair in a near-painful grip. He tried to buck when Castiel began to draw back, but was stopped when Cas lifted his hands and gripped Dean's hips, tapping into his angel half to keep the man immobile.

"Holy shit, Cas, don't stop!" Dean's other hand joined the first in Castiel's hair, tugging encouragingly.

Cas pulled back until only the head of Dean's cock remained in his mouth, and tilted just enough that he could see Dean's face. The man's eyes were locked on Castiel, his breath panting heavily past parted lips. Lust sizzled down Castiel's spine when their eyes met, and the fact that Dean hadn't closed his eyes, that he was _watching_, only made the half-blood all the more determined to make Dean come apart. He lashed his tongue briefly against the head, watching as Dean's eyes nearly rolled back into his skull, then took him in again. He released Dean's hips, and let Dean fuck into his mouth without restraint.

The moment his hips were free of the inhumanly strong grip Dean lost it. He gripped Castiel's hair and bucked into him with an abandon that thrilled the half-blood. This was what Cas wanted, for Dean to be utterly lost in the sensations that Castiel was creating. He began to hum again, and though it was difficult he kept himself at an angle that allowed him to watch Dean's face. He saw the moment Dean finally gave in and closed his eyes, watched as Dean's mouth opened in a silent cry. The man's body went rigid, his fingers tightening so hard in Castiel's hair that Cas's eyes watered.

"Cas!" Dean ground out, and then his expression was contorting with the force of his climax as it exploded out of him and down Castiel's throat.

Cas didn't pull away until Dean's hands began to shake and his legs gave out. He guided the hunter down until he was kneeling in front of Cas, and then pressed their foreheads together when the cherub half's need for closeness demanded attention.

"I think I need to send this Sebastian guy a fruit basket," Dean quipped breathlessly, grinning when Castiel chuckled.

"It's not just what I learned, it's our connection. It intensifies everything." Speaking of intense...Castiel shifted a little uncomfortably as his arousal reminded him painfully that it had not yet been taken care of.

Dean's eyes flicked downwards, and when he winced sympathetically it struck Castiel as so adorable that he couldn't help a quiet chuckle. "I'm not..." Dean let out a frustrated sigh and met Castiel's eyes. "I'm not ready to try that. What you did."

Castiel smiled. "I know."

"Yeah, well, doesn't mean I can't do this."

Dean lifted his hand, and wrapped still soap-slippery fingers around Castiel's erection. The jolt of pleasure the contact caused seemed to rip it's way up his spine and spread throughout his body, making the half-blood cry out as he pressed closer to Dean. The hunter bent his head and nipped lightly at Castiel's throat in a way that struck the half-blood as experimental.

"You like it kinda rough, don't you?" Dean's voice was low and husky in his ear. Teeth sunk, briefly but sharply, into his earlobe, making Castiel jerk as the mild pain only intensified the pleasure Dean's rough, slick hand was creating.

"A little," Castiel managed to gasp. He leaned forward so that his head was pressed against Dean's shoulder. "Nothing too..._ooohhh, god do that again!..._too extreme."

Castiel could feel Dean's grin against his skin as the man bit into his shoulder a second time. He hung on for a moment, tightly enough to cause a sweet pain, but not so hard as to break the skin. The half-blood began to spasm helplessly, gripping Dean's hips to keep from slipping as he pressed as close as he could without immobilizing Dean's hand.

"God, that's hot," Dean murmured, his tone slightly incredulous. Then, more softly, "I'm gonna try something. Just tell me if you don't like it."

Fingers grabbed a tight hold of Castiel's hair and sharply jerked back his head. The half-blood had just enough time to gasp before Dean's mouth crashed against his, harsh and hard and _perfect. _Castiel's orgasm ripped through him with such force that he actually froze in shock, almost unable to process the intensity of it. Dean's hand continued to work at him until Castiel was as shaky and boneless as Dean had been, and even then he continued the kiss, softening it into something slow and sensuous that brought Cas oh-so-carefully down from his high.

"So that was okay, huh?" Dean's voice was a mixture of amusement and slight concern when he finally pulled away.

Castiel smiled lazily, and he noted with distant interest that their fingers were staring to prune. "More than okay," he agreed. "We should get going," he added reluctantly.

Dean made a sort of protesting snort as he climbed to his feet, and held his hand out to help Cas up as well. "Nah, let's just stay in here. Forget the world, it doesn't need us."

"Your brother does," Castiel pointed out, even as he smiled at Dean's own reluctance to leave.

"Damn. Fine, you win! Let's go find out what kind of psychic crap is goin' on in this town."

They rinsed off and finally tumbled out of the shower. Dean snatched a towel from the rack, and he grumbled something about scruff and razors as he passed the mirror. Castiel chuckled at him, though he reached up to touch his own face and realized he needed a shave as well. Had he remembered to pack razors?

The half-blood wandered out of the bathroom in time to see Dean pulling his ringing cell out of his pocket. He frowned at the number on the screen in a manner that suggested he didn't recognize it, and then he frowned even further when he remembered that this was a new phone and a new number, part of Amor's identity wipe.

"Who would have this number already?" He asked. He didn't look up, so Castiel wasn't sure if he was talking to no one in particular or to Cas himself.

"Only one way to find out," Cas replied.

Dean shrugged, and flipped open the phone. "Hello?"

Castiel couldn't hear who was on the other end of the line, but Dean's eyes lit up brighter than the sun, and the name that burst from him a second later told him everything. "Sammy! Are you okay? You sure? Okay, where are you? And how the hell did you get this number?" There was a pause. Dean nodded once, and then his eyes flew wide. "Wait, a _demon _helped you escape?" Another pause. "No, Sammy...Sammy, slow down! We're in Saginaw. Yeah, Amor got your message, he beamed us all here. No...no, Sam, Carmen's not here...I'll explain later, okay? Now how did you get this number?" Yet another pause, and this time Dean's brow creased into a deep frown. "Amor gave it to you? How come he doesn't just bring you...oh hell. Okay. Okay, we'll come get you." This time, Castiel could hear Sam yelling through the phone, and Dean actually held the device away from his ear. "Jeez, Sammy, what the hell?" Dean growled. "Alright, alright, we'll stay. Do you have any money on you, for a bus or something? ... You're going to steal a car? You're going to _steal _a _car?_" Dean was starting to grin now. "That's my boy," he chuckled. "Just ditch it before you get here, okay? ...I know you're not stupid! ...Yeah, we're in..." Dean gave Sam the location of the motel, asked him one more time if he was okay, and finally hung up.

"Amor's being followed." Dean put the phone back in his pocket. "Sam's in Detroit, apparently some demon chick broke him out of this basement Azazael locked him in, but he has no idea why. I guess this communication thing works two ways, 'cause Amor managed to send Sam my new number, and I guess he told Sam another angel is following him. Sam's coming to us, he wants us to go look into that guy's death. Oh, and apparently there's been another one, this guy got his head lopped off by his own window. Sam thinks it's the same kid."

The new hunter paused, and then let out a sudden, explosive sound that was somewhere between a hysterical laugh and a gasp for breath. Cas felt a surge of pure relief flow from Dean and into him. The half-blood thought of the sheer terror Dean had been managing to live with since Sam disappeared, and that dream...the Sam that had not been Sam.

"Dean, do you worry about him so much because of that dream?" It was asked hesitantly, because Cas wasn't really sure if they were on steady enough ground to ask that question yet.

"Yeah," Dean replied easily, easing Cas's fears. He pushed himself up and scooped his shirt off the floor. "It never changes, I've had it since I was just a kid. Here." He tossed Cas's shirt and jeans to him. "The weird thing? We were always adults in that dream. I gotta tell ya, it's really weird knowing exactly how you and your kid brother are going to look when you're older."

Another question hovered in the air between them, but Cas remained silent as he dressed, letting Dean get around to finally blurting out, "Cas, you don't think it's real, do you?"

Since he was closer, Castiel grabbed the keys from the table and handed them to Dean as they headed for the door. "I was real," he said quietly.

Dean pulled on his coat, and let out a sigh as they headed for the Impala.

...*...

"I am not angry, I am not angry, I am _not angry,_" Amor chanted determinedly to himself as he paced restlessly around the outside of the...was it a funeral home? Oh, someone had a sick sense of humor. "I am not angry," he repeated one more time, just for good measure.

How was he going to get in there?

Since he'd left Dean and Castiel at the motel, Amor had picked up the trail of his two lost cherubs, only to discover that someone had stashed them behind the armor of angel warding sigils. In a funeral home. In Detroit. What was it with Detroit, anyway? He'd felt it the moment Sam escaped, in fact he thought Sam might have passed this place on his way out, maybe inadvertently giving Amor the lead he needed to follow. Had he been able to feel Sam before? No, not the time, no time...

"Ulien!" Amor called. He could feel the cherub somewhere nearby, hanging back for some reason. That worried Amor a little; Ulien wasn't the type to let Amor, or any of his friends for that matter, go into a situation alone.

_Ulien, _he tried again, silently.

_Amor! You've got to get away from there!_

_Where are you?_

Silence. Amor finally gave in to the fact that he was, in fact, angry, and kicked the grass at his feet. Guilt welled up immediately in his chest, and he threw himself down and tried to straighten the blades he'd uprooted.

"Sorry, sorry," he murmured as he petted and smoothed until all the blades of grass were back in place. "Shouldn't take my anger out on you." He patted the earth in apology, and then remembering Ulien's warning he stood and took flight.

He meant to travel only a few miles, but mid-flight something grabbed a hold of him and changed his course. It was a regular angel, which was a bit of a relief, but even a regular angel was more powerful than a cherub, and Amor couldn't wrench himself away. Instead of a few miles he found himself standing on a rooftop mere blocks from the funeral home.

"Why aren't you on your rounds, cherub?"

Amor whipped around, and groaned aloud when he saw who was standing behind him. "Uriel. Oh, it had to be you, didn't it? Why are there angel wards on that building?"

The angel's eyes narrowed with irritation. "They disobeyed. I'm giving you a chance to avoid their fate."

Amor felt a strong urge to say something rude, something very human. "Muriel and Naren? You...you did that? Uriel, what the hell!? We don't imprison our own! And they didn't disobey, they're just thinking for themselves!" The cherub slapped a hand over his mouth suddenly, and let out one of his hysterical, nervous giggles. "I just said what the hell. Oh, oh, do you see what this is doing to me? Wait, are you the one who's been following me?"

Uriel said nothing, merely stared at him impassively, and a piece of the entirely too large puzzle fell into place. "Oh, Uriel, no. You can't be on their side!"

One eyebrow went up, and Uriel took a step forward. A flick of his wrist and the angel sword all ranks but cherubs carried fell into his hand.

_Ulien?! _Amor practically shrieked the name in his mind, and he felt an answering tremor of what felt like fear and weakness.

_Amor, I can't help you yet. I can't even reach you. You'll have to defend yourself until I can recover._

Recover? Amor almost yelped it aloud and only just managed to stop himself. What had happened? Had Uriel done something to him? No, Uriel would have killed him. The wards, then? Yes, that made sense. Ulien must have gotten to close and temporarily turned himself, for the most part, human.

Which meant that he was entirely on his own.

With no weapon.

Frantically, Amor searched his mind for anything that could help him. Could he run? Probably, but how far would he make it? Uriel was fast, and this time he wouldn't pull him out of mid-flight, he would just kill him. Cherubs didn't carry any kind of weapon, and the only power a cherub had that any other angel didn't was the touch that brought out and strengthened affection, the touch that helped them to bring out love, and as far as he knew it didn't work on angels.

There was something cool and hard in his hand. Uriel's eyes widened in shock, and when Amor glanced quickly down at his hand that shock was mirrored in his own eyes.

He was holding an angel sword.

...*...

TBC

_Okay, do you see that box down there? Yes, that one there. The one that says review. You should type something in that. Because reviews are awesome, and they make this writer's day. :-D. lol. _


	12. Chapter 12

_From "I'm making him nervous? "Yeah, alright," Dean groused." to "...and everything stopped" was written by karmascars. Because I was stupidly stuck and she's awesome. ^_^. _

_...*..._

"Cas, you gotta try this on!"

With a sigh that was half fondness, half exasperation, Castiel turned to see what exactly it was that he just had to try on. Sam's call had put Dean in a spectacular mood, and though the last hour had produced nothing that could really be called a lead, Dean was confident that once Sam arrived they'd be able to find the child.

In the meantime, Castiel had realized he'd forgotten to bring a coat. It had been more of a passing observation as they climbed into the Impala (the air was a bit nippy) after a thorough search of the victim's garage, but Dean had insisted on stopping by a shop on the way back to the motel to get him one.

Except...what Dean was holding out to him, with a giant grin on his face, was not a coat.

"Dean, that is a tent," Castiel said with a chuckle. It was a full sized, tan-colored trench coat, and the damn thing looked like it could swallow him whole, but the grin on Dean's face was so enticing that Castiel, with a sigh of defeat, turned around and held his arms out so that Dean could slip it on.

To the half blood's surprise, the coat fit surprisingly well. It also felt, eerily, like it belonged on him.

Cas turned so that Dean could see how it looked, and the man immediately began to snigger. When Castiel arched one eyebrow in question Dean lost it completely, laughing so hard that he had to brace his hands against his knees to keep from falling.

"Sorry!" Dean gasped without any sincerity whatsoever. "It's just...you look like a tax accountant or somethin'."

Castiel choked down the urge to huff indignantly by settling for putting his hands in his new pockets and lifting his other eyebrow to join the first. "I like it."

"Really?" Dean stopped laughing, his amusement swapped for a look of mild disbelief. "Okay. Let's get it."

They paid for the coat with the stolen card, and Cas wore it out of the store. Despite his laughter, Dean cast several glances his way as they walked back to the Impala, and Cas didn't need his empathic abilities to see Dean's keen interest in ripping the coat, along with everything else, right back off of him.

Sam was leaning on the door of their room by the time they got back. Dean barely had the Impala in park before he was out the door and pulling Sam into his arms, as though he needed him to breathe. Cas followed more slowly, noting with interest the swell of relief flowing from Dean as he checked his little brother for injuries and found none. The frantic voice in the back of the new hunter's mind had calmed as well. Later, Cas thought as he approached, he would have to delve a little further into that dream of Dean's.

"Hey Cas," Sam greeted brightly when the half blood came up beside Dean. He glanced between the two of them, and Cas saw the moment comprehension dawned in his eyes. "Oh my god. Dean, is Carmen not here because you..." He gestured a little wildly between them.

"Shut up," Dean muttered, but he was grinning as he pushed passed Sam to open the door.

"Holy crap." Sam followed Dean inside, though he twisted his head over his shoulder to cast Castiel an almost regretful look. "Sorry I missed that. Did he freak?"

"Sam! Shut up!" Dean smacked his little brother upside the head, but that only made Sam grin harder.

"I don't think Dean would be comfortable with me sharing the details-" Castiel started.

"Oh, go ahead, you girls gossip all you want." Dean interrupted, trying to sound flippant, but Cas could feel his mixture of embarrassment and amusement as potently as though it were his own.

Sam crumpled heavily onto the nearest bed, and patted the space beside him to indicate Cas should join him. "Come on, Cas. I've had the worst week of my life, embarrassing the shit out of my brother will at least make it a little better."

The dark wave of sadness and rage that rolled from Sam nearly made Castiel ill. He glanced at Dean, who gave a sigh and a single nod, so the half blood joined Sam on the bed while Dean dug (likely for nothing) through his duffel.

"Dean actually came to me," Castiel said finally. "And he did not freak. He was nervous, but then again he was not alone in that. He was very sad to leave Carmen, though."

Though Dean was pretending not to listen, Castiel felt the surge of grief that welled painfully in his chest the moment the new hunter heard her name.

"So, wait..." Sam twisted around so he could look at his older brother, who was still shuffling around in the duffel. "If you didn't want to leave Carmen, why...? I mean, it's cool, it really is, I'm just...confused."

Dean dropped the duffel with a displeased grunt, and Castiel felt the resignation the moment Dean realized he couldn't escape this conversation. The hunter's eyes landed on the half-blood, for the briefest moment uncertain. Cas tried his best to clamp down on the sudden fear that spiked harshly through him; was Dean regretting his decision? The half-blood didn't realize the bond was open on both ends until Dean launched suddenly across the room and grabbed him by his shoulders.

"I don't regret it," Dean practically growled, and then fought a blush when he realized Sam was staring at him with wide eyes. "Shut up, Sam!"

"Wow, so this soulmate thing must have really gotten to you to, huh?" Sam grinned when Dean released one of Castiel's arms and tried to swipe at him, but this time he was ready for it. He ducked Dean's arm and jumped off the bed, dancing just out of reach. "Dean and Cas, sitting in a tree..."

"SHUT UP!" Releasing Castiel completely, Dean launched himself at his younger brother, intent on pinning him down and smothering him with the nearest pillow.

Shaking his head, Castiel simply sat and watched with a small, amused smile. Sam was taller, but Dean was stronger from his constant work with cars, and he had Sam pinned down in a matter of minutes. Sam began to laugh helplessly when Dean tried to reach for a pillow while still keeping the younger man pinned, and Castiel gave a tiny sigh of relief when he felt just a small shred of the anger and pain in Sam fall away. It would be a long time before it was diminished enough for Sam to truly be alright, but it was good to know that being near his brother was allowing him to make some kind of progress.

"Cas! Throw me a pillow!"

Castiel chuckled. "I'm not going to help you suffocate your brother, Dean."

Dean twisted his head over his shoulder to shoot Cas a mock glare. "Spoilsport."

The brief distraction was enough for Sam to grab his older brother's arms and twist, sending them both rolling off the edge of the bed. Dean let out a loud 'oof!' as his back hit the floor, and Castiel couldn't help another chuckle when he heard Sam's victorious laughter.

That chuckle died in his throat when Sam's laugh morphed into a scream.

...*...

"How did you get that?" Uriel practically snarled.

Amor blinked once, twice. It was still there. He squeezed his fingers questioningly around the sword, felt the strength of angelic metal biting an answer into his palm. It was real. As far as Amor knew, he was the first Cherub in existence to hold an angel sword, and he had absolutely no time to be confounded by that.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Amor shifted into a solid stance and lifted the sword in front of him. He said nothing, merely stared at Uriel with what he hoped was a challenging expression and not the terror he could feel crashing through every cell of his body and every bit of his grace. Uriel's eyebrows shot up, and he actually chuckled, as though this were the most amusing thing the angel had ever witnessed.

"You are going to fight me?" Uriel chuckled disbelievingly.

"If I have to." Amor fought a wince at how high his voice sounded.

The angel considered him a moment, eyes narrow and wrist twitching in a manner that seemed unconscious, though his own blade had yet to appear in his hand. Something dark flashed in his gaze, and the tiniest of smiles suddenly curved his lips. Amor almost dropped his new blade; for just a moment, Uriel looked very much like a demon.

"Stand down, or I will kill your son."

Amor twitched. He closed his fingers more tightly around the blade to hide it, and he took a bold step forward, desperately hoping to somehow intimidate the other angel. "He's hidden, or you might have done that already!"

Uriel's smirk did not abate. "With enough angels on the look out, it would be simple enough to find him. He simply has not been a priority until now. Imagine what would happen should we choose to make him one."

It was the wrong thing to say. Uriel had been digging for an advantage, and seemed so certain he had one. Instead, Amor felt rage building up inside him, something so base and primal that he could only associate it with the protective instincts of a human. His stance became more solid, his eyes narrowed in a perfectly steady challenge, and without warning he lunged at Uriel, sword raised and ready to be used.

Shock bloomed across the angel's face. He darted quickly to the side, barely avoiding the unexpected attack, and flicked his wrist so that his own blade appeared in his hand. Amor, even enraged, was not a fighter, and he barely recovered from his lunge in time to spin around and block the nearly fatal thrust of Uriel's sword.

"If you touch my son, I will kill you!" Amor snarled.

Uriel danced away and raised his eyebrows again. "Oh really? You, a cherub who gives love and life, would take a life?"

Amor froze.

It was a mistake; Uriel immediately pressed his advantage. "I don't want to kill you, brother. If you drop that blade and return to your rounds, I will leave you and your son alone."

Brother. Very few angels above the cherubs called them brother, since they seemed to believe that cherubs were barely any better than humans. Though Amor knew Uriel was just using it to throw him off balance, it still succeeded in doing just that.

Drop that blade...Amor looked down at it, and his hand only clenched all the more tightly. He couldn't drop it. It wasn't his to drop!

He was gathering himself for another, if less ferocious, attack, when the sound of wingbeats filled the air, and Gabriel came crashing out of nowhere, right into Uriel. The angel flew across the roof and skidded several feet before coming to a stop perilously close to the edge, his eyes wide in shock when he saw the archangel standing over him.

"Gabriel?" Amor murmured questioningly, though he found himself edging closer to the protection the trickster appeared to be providing.

Gabriel glanced over his shoulder, his face caught somewhere between a scowl and a grin. He spared the cherub only a second before his gaze was back on Uriel, who was slowly climbing back to his feet. "Uriel! Shoulda known you were involved in all this, you're certainly thick enough."

"Gabriel?" The angel still looked positively shocked. "We assumed you were dead."

Gabriel snorted. "Nah, witness protection program. Now, are you going to make me smite the crap out of you, or are you going to run along like a good little angel and report back to big daddy?"

Apparently reporting back sounded good, because Uriel promptly vanished. The moment he was gone Amor sank to his knees, wondering at the fact that adrenaline could apparently drain his grace as much as his physical strength.

"Thank you," Amor murmured gratefully. Then, with a touch of confusion, "What made you do it? You've been so careful not to reveal your involvement until now."

Gabriel turned to face him, and his expression was more scowl than grin now. "Yeah, well, that's the thing about cherubs. Hard not to want to, you know, help out."

"Tell that to Uriel," Amor muttered, and he chuckled when Gabriel's expression finally morphed into a real grin.

"Where'd you get the sword, anyway?" Gabriel eyeballed it, his expression both impressed and painfully curious.

"I have no idea." Amor lifted it up to eye level. The impression that it wasn't his remained. "It's not mine. I thought for just a second that maybe you sent it to me, but by your reaction I'm guessing no."

"Nope, no way would I send you my sword," Gabriel said with a shake of his head. "I'll break the kids out, you go back to your pet humans."

Amor frowned at him. "They're not my pets!"

Gabriel waved a hand dismissively, and then held it out almost as an afterthought so that Amor could grab hold and climb to his feet. "Can you break them out?" Amor asked, glancing dubiously at the wards.

"I have a few tricks up my sleeve," Gabriel replied, with just a little too much glee for Amor's taste. He decided not to ask.

"Okay." Before Gabriel had a chance to protest, Amor threw his arms around the other angel in a quick, but very sincere, hug. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah, get off." Gabriel shoved the cherub away and disappeared.

Amor hesitated, wondering if he should go after him and help, but then again, Gabriel was a trickster and an angel rolled into one. He really didn't need Amor's help. So, with a last, perplexed glance down at the sword, Amor took flight.

...*...

"Dean, I'm okay. I swear, I'm okay."

Dean ignored his younger brother's assurance and continued to check him over. "It's not okay when you start screaming because there's pictures in your head."

"Pictures we should be acting on," Sam insisted. "He's about to kill again, Dean! We have to try and stop it!"

"I agree with Sam," Castiel spoke up. "The sooner we go, the better, and this time we know exactly where to find him."

Dean fixed his brother with a hard stare. "You're sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Dean, I'm fine," Sam practically snarled, though the look he shot his brother from under his bangs was a fond one. "Let's just go, okay?"

Reluctantly, Dean nodded and helped his brother to his feet.

"Tell me what you saw again, Sam," Castiel requested as they climbed into the Impala.

"A kid, well, not a kid, probably my age. Kind of looked malnourished. He was facing this woman, maybe his mom? And he was controlling a knife with his mind. He was just holding it in the air in front of her, like he wanted her to be as scared as she possibly could before she died." Sam shuddered. "Did the demon blood make him like that? Is it going to...do that to me?"

"No," Dean growled in answer. "It's not. No way. Right, Cas?"

"The demon blood grants powers, but no, it would not affect your personality in any adverse way," Castiel said with what sounded like a fair amount of certainty, though Dean thought he felt a whisper of doubt beneath the sure tone.

"It's his stepmom, not his real mom," Dean said, mostly to distract himself. "Didn't peg him for the murderer. Seemed so bummed out about his Dad's death."

"Could have been an act," Sam pointed out. "Or maybe at first he was feeling guilty about taking a life. Or...I dunno, Dean, I could feel this rage pouring out of him. Like he'd been hurt so badly that he just had to hurt back, you know?"

"You think he was abused?" Dean hadn't really thought of that. He hadn't seen any marks on the kid, but then again the guy had been mostly covered up, and he had looked a bit too pale and too thin.

"It's possible."

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror, trying to catch Castiel's gaze. "What do you think? You get any vibes off the guy?"

Castiel shook his head. "I tend to keep my empathic abilities somewhat closed off around most people, especially when there are so many people in one area. It overwhelms me."

"Makes sense," Dean answered with a shrug, which actually meant _it's okay, I don't blame you. _"So...what's the game-plan, here?"

Sam hesitated a moment, then asked slowly, "You have your gun?"

Dean nodded with what he thought might have been just a little too much ease. "In the trunk. Never thought I'd use it for anything but target practice, but I'm sure glad I took care of it."

"Dean, it may be wise to start carrying the gun with you at all times," Castiel pointed out.

Sam nodded in agreement, and Dean let out an explosive sigh. Logically he'd already figured that out, but the part of him that had been so damn happy with his old life had been trying it's damnedest to beat logic over the head. "I'll get it out when we get there," he agreed. "Do we have a plan? I mean, we can't just shoot him, can we?"

"No," Sam said immediately. "Actually, now that I think about it, maybe it would be better to leave the gun in the car. The guy can control things with his mind, and I really don't like the idea of him getting a hold of your gun." The younger brother brightened suddenly. "Do you think I could talk to him? Let him know he's not alone? Maybe I could get him to stop!"

"Oh yeah, that's a great idea, Sammy. I'll just send you right into the line of fire!" Dean shot his brother a withering look that did absolutely nothing to diminish the hope in his little brother's eyes.

"Actually...that might be worth a try," Castiel murmured hesitantly. He glanced at Dean, as though afraid the look currently focused on Sam would redirect itself to him. "If we go in unarmed and let Sam talk to him, he might stop. I don't think he wants to hurt people in general, just the ones who hurt him, and that's...understandable."

"Understandable? It's understandable that he killed two people?" Dean returned his gaze to the road and locked it there, hands clenching around the wheel with unexpected anger. He hadn't thought he'd care this much, and he definitely hadn't expected Castiel to take Sam's side.

"Dean, think about it. Say he was, or maybe even is, abused. How would you feel after being constantly beaten by people who are supposed to love you?" Carefully, like he was touching a wild animal, Sam put a hand on Dean's arm. "What if you got home everyday when we were kids and Dad had beaten you? Or me? How would you feel?"

Unwillingly, Dean's hands loosened their grip a bit. Damn it, he hated it when Sammy was all cool-headed and logical. "Yeah, okay. But if he kills the woman, or if I see him even make a threatening twitch your way..." he trailed off, but he saw Sam nod out of the corner of his eye.

Once they arrived, Cas was able to beam them all inside, and from there everything got very...odd. The kid, Max, startled by their sudden presence in the room, dropped the blade he'd been holding no more than a centimeter away from his stepmother's eye...and yeah, okay, holding it up from across the room just by looking at it. Out of the corner of his eye Dean saw Cas weave on his feet, his expression morphing rapidly between blank and stunned. He could only assume Castiel was feeling Max's emotions, and Dean kept the connection carefully closed so that at least one of them was focused.

"Max, it's okay, we're not here to hurt you." Sam took a step forward, hands held up in front of him, falling into a role Dean had seen him play countless times in school. Sam, always ready to jump into the fray and help the nerdy kid, or the local 'freak', or whatever other oddball that needed to know Sam was a friend, not the enemy.

"Who're you?" Max was nearly in tears, and it was obvious in the choked tone of his voice.

"My name's Sam. I'm like you, I have...abilities."

A hand grasped Dean's arm and drew him back. For a moment Dean protested, but it kept pulling insistently until Dean had taken several paces back. "Let them have some room," Castiel murmured in his ear. "He's calming down. He'll listen to Sam, but you're making him nervous."

_I'm making him nervous?_ "Yeah, all right," Dean groused, allowing himself to be led from the room. Despite Castiel's gentle tugging he refused to move farther than a few steps from the other room, making sure he could hear the murmur of voices. Making sure this didn't get out of hand.

He heard the kid's voice crack up an octave, and he was moving before he could think about it, but it still felt like time was moving in slow motion. Dean rounded the corner into the kitchen and saw a knife in midair, Sam with his back to the wall looking like a caged bull, and then the stepmother was screaming and Castiel was saying something but all Dean could think about was _Sammy_ and _get that fucking knife_ and -

There came the sound of glass breaking in another room and everything _stopped_.

One moment Dean had a hand outstretched for the knife while his other reached desperately for Sammy, and the next he was blinking up at the too-bright kitchen light. His head throbbed dully from the impact with the linoleum floor, and when he cautiously reached back a hand he could feel blood soaked into his hair.

With a soft groan, Dean sat up. The ache was already pounding behind his eyes, but he wasn't seeing stars or hearing any ringing in his ears, and he didn't feel nauseated, so that was a good sign.

"Sammy? Cas?"

A soft groan sounded behind him. Dean twisted around, suppressing a yelp when the sudden movement aggravated the pain behind his eyes, and found Castiel lying behind him.

"Cas!" Ignoring the pain, Dean scrambled forward and carefully began to check the half-blood over. "You okay, man?"

"My head..." Castiel slowly lifted a hand and pressed it to his temple. "Dean, I think I have a concussion. I can't...I can't focus on you."

"Shit!" What did you do when someone had a concussion? Hospital, that's what you did. Dean slipped an arm under Castiel's shoulders and began to haul him upright. "Come on, we gotta get you to the car."

Fingers touched Dean's temple, slipping through the blood that had begun to drip down from his hair. "Are you..." Castiel frowned, blinked slowly. Shook his head once, as though shaking off a fog. "Are you alright?"

Though he would never admit it in a million years, even under torture, Dean had a complete girl moment as warmth spread through him at the concern Cas was showing, despite the fact that Cas was the one with the concussion. "I'm okay, Cas. Just a bit cut up, is all. Come on, I gotta get you up so I can find Sammy."

"I'm here, Dean."

It was Sam's voice, but it was thin, almost hollow. Dean twisted his head over his shoulder and saw Sam standing in the doorway. He was shaking, and there was something dark smeared around the corners of his lips, which he quickly wiped away when Dean's eyes came to rest on him.

"You okay, Sammy? Where's the kid?"

Sam's wide, fearful eyes flicked to his and away again. "He's...gone. The stepmom is, too, she's calling the cops, I think. We need to get out of here. Is Cas okay?"

Dean frowned even as he carefully hauled Castiel to his feet. Sam never avoided eye contact unless he was feeling guilty about something. "Sam, what happened to that kid?"

Sam's shaking worsened, but he stepped forward and reached out to slide an arm around Cas's waist, helping Dean guide him towards the car. "He's...he's dead, Dean. I..." the younger man's face went white, and he shook his head wildly.

"Okay, okay, we'll figure it out later," Dean soothed, reaching across Cas to smooth a hand over Sam's shoulder. "Let's get Cas to the hospital first, and then..."

The bizarre, jarring sensation of being somewhere new in less than a second cut the rest of Dean's sentence off. He blinked, and realized they were somehow back in the motel room. Castiel certainly hadn't done it, not in his condition, so who...?

Dean's vision was suddenly filled with Amor as the angel rushed forward and placed both hands on either side of Castiel's head. A moment later the half-blood blinked, his eyes clearing of confusion and pain. As soon as Amor had assured himself that his son was alright, he swept him up in a crushing hug.

"I'm sorry I was gone so long!" Amor apologized fiercely. "What happened?"

"Max." It was Sam who spoke, though Dean had opened his mouth to answer. "He attacked me. I thought I was getting through to him, but he cracked and came after me with the knife. Dean and Cas tried to help, but he knocked them out cold."

Without releasing his son, Amor twisted his head around so he could see Sam. His eyes were wide, and filled with so much sympathy that Dean had a sudden, twisted feeling he knew exactly what had happened.

"Sam, it's not your fault." Amor released Castiel and pulled Sam into a hug instead, cradling the younger man's head against his shoulder. "It's okay, Sammy."

"It's not!" Sam yelled, but he clung to the angel in a manner that Dean would have teased him for as girly, if it hadn't been for the haunted look in his eyes. "Amor, it's not okay! I _killed him!_"

Though he'd begun to suspect it anyway, Dean felt a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean heard himself saying before he could even consciously think to form the words. "It was self defense, you didn't have a choice."

"Dean's right." Amor lifted a hand and ran it through Sam's hair. "Dean's right, Sam. Let it go."

Sam shook his head, but he continued to grip Amor's shoulders so tightly that it might have hurt him if he were human.

It took some time and a good deal of coaxing, but between Amor and Dean they finally got Sam to sit down on one of the beds, and to quietly agree that it wasn't his fault. He was still avoiding eye contact, though, and Dean had a sickening feeling that Sam had omitted something, something he was somehow managing to hide even from Amor.

Once Sam was settled, the angel whipped around and yanked Dean into a hug before the hunter could protest. A hand touched the back of his head, and with a suddenness that was shocking Dean's headache and injury vanished.

"Thanks," Dean murmured gratefully.

Amor nodded against his shoulder. "You're welco...Oh. OH! Dean, you did it! Oh, my day just got so much better!"

Though Sam's eyes remained haunted, he latched onto the distraction with so much vigour that it only disturbed Dean all the more. "Did what?"

"Dean and Cas had sex!" Amor announced happily, bouncing away from Dean and beaming like his Christmas had come early.

"AMOR!" Dean yelped, and he would deny until his dying day that he turned ten different shades of red.

"Well, okay, they didn't really, but they definitely did some-" Amor was cut off when Dean wrapped a hand around his mouth and glared at him. Sam chuckled, and the sound was such a welcome one after the last couple of hours (or had it been longer?) that Dean felt a smidgen of relief loosen some of the worry sitting heavily in his chest.

"Shut up, Sam," Dean grumbled, though he let his hand fall away from Amor and shuffled away until his knees bumped into the bed. He sank down next to Cas, who had seated himself beside Sam, and he tried valiantly to pretend he wasn't mortified.

"Hey, Amor? What the hell is that?" Sam pointed to something in Amor's hand, something Dean hadn't noticed with all his attention focused on his brother and his...he glanced at Cas. What did he call him? Soulmate? Lover? Boyfriend? The last one made him shudder, and he decided Cas would just be _his_.

Amor stepped back and held up, with the most confused expression Dean had ever witnessed, a long, silver thing that looked kind of like a cross between a blade and an oversized ice-pick.

"Hey, that's mine!" Sam yelped in surprise, and he snatched the thing out of Amor's hand. Then he just sat there, staring dumbly at it, and slowly lifted his eyes to meet the cherub's. "Um...why is this mine? I don't know why I said that. I don't even know what it is."

"It's an angel's sword," Amor said numbly.

"Oh, well, guess it's not mine, then," Sam chuckled nervously, and he tried to shove it back into Amor's hand.

"No, Sam." Amor pushed it gently back towards him, curling his hand around Sam's until the younger man tightened his grip around the odd blade. "It is yours."

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

_Once again, thanks and huggles to Karmascars for being awesome and doing edits. And thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, you guys make my day! :D_

_...*..._

"What? How can it be mine?" Sam held up the sword to eye level, examining it with a baffled expression.

Amor turned and walked towards the door, his head dipped low and his arms wrapping around his waist, as though he were trying to protect himself from some unseen danger. "Sam, do you remember what you called me when you sent me that vision?"

"I called you by your name," Sam said with a shrug.

"Yes. But what name?"

Sam opened his mouth to answer, but paused suddenly. His brow creased into a tight frown, and then he said, slowly, "Anriel. I called you Anriel."

Dean glanced at Castiel, but all the half-blood could do in answer was shake his head. The name was not one he recognized.

"Anriel is my real name, or my given name." Amor turned, lifting his head to meet Sam's gaze. His eyes were glazed with something caught between shock and resignation. "I named myself Amor after humans invented Latin. I adored the idea of being named after what I represented and encouraged. I've been calling myself that so long that there are only a handful of angels, or at least angels I associate with, who still call me by my original name. In fact, I can name them on one hand." The angel lifted his right hand and held up three fingers. "Michael, Ulien...and Lucifer."

Castiel's stomach dropped to his feet. He felt his jaw slacken, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Dean twist around to give him a gaze that was both concerned and curious.

"Okay," Sam said slowly. "What does that have to do with this being somehow mine?"

Amor took the three steps required to get him to the second bed, and he sank down onto it. "To make you understand that, I have to tell you a story. It's something I began to suspect hours after meeting you, Sam, but I didn't really begin to believe it until you managed to smile at me even though Jessica had just died. That sword...that just confirms it."

"Yeah, okay, does this eventually get around to the part that tells us why Sam's holding an angel's blade?" Dean barked, his growing irritation making him aggressive. Castiel reached out and put a placating hand on Dean's arm, and the hunter instantly relaxed beneath his touch, though his eyes remained locked on Amor's downturned face.

Amor nodded an affirmative to Dean's question, apparently oblivious to his belligerence. "I was one of the first cherubs created. By the time I came into existence the archangels, guardian angels and regular angels had already been created. Each of us had our individual powers, but none understood yet why we had them. What you call God, or Goddess, or any other number of names...well, I can't explain it, but it isn't something that you can talk to, per se. We just knew we had this feeling from it that told us our powers had a purpose, and that soon we would understand it. So until then, we mingled with each other, came to love each other. Two angels, an archangel and a cherub, became very close, in fact they were the first two angels to discover what it meant to be _in love. _It was how the cherub discovered how he would use his power later." Amor paused. He shifted uncomfortably, and then suddenly sprang from his seat and dove across the space between the beds to land in a bounce beside Sam.

As one, Dean and Cas stood and moved to the other bed to give them room. Castiel watched as Sam easily lifted an arm and put it around Amor's shoulders, his head tilted towards him and his eyes wide with his concern. _He has the empathy of an angel_, Castiel thought, and that only made the coldness he was feeling inside increase tenfold.

"What does this have to do with Sam?" Dean pressed. His eyes were on his brother, narrowed with a concern that was far more dangerous than the one Sam was directing towards Amor.

Amor ignored him. His eyes were locked on Sam, and he seemed to have forgotten the other two were even there. "These two angels were together when humanity was created. The cherub adored them, loved them completely despite their flaws. He saw the potential in them, and he was eager to mingle and to assist in their development in any way he could. But the archangel was torn. He wanted to love them because the cherub did, but a part of him was bitter towards them. He didn't understand why God would create more when he had the angels." Abruptly, Amor lifted a hand to Sam's face. Beside him, Castiel felt Dean shift uncomfortably as confusion settled heavily in his chest.

"The cherub tried to convince the archangel that humanity was worthy of the angels' attention," Amor continued softly. "But he wouldn't listen, in the end. He went to war against them, turned other angels against them as well, and he was...he was cast down from Heaven for it."

There was a pause, and finally Sam murmured incredulously, "You mean Lucifer? The archangel was Lucifer? Then...Oh. Oh my god! You were the cherub!"

Slowly, Amor nodded. "I was the cherub. Lucifer and I were the first...well, what you would call couple, at least in this version of creation."

"I still don't see what this has to do with Sam!" Dean was getting angry again, and he started to stand up from the bed. Castiel quickly put a hand on his arm again.

"Wait, Dean," Castiel murmured, leaning close to his soulmate and soothing a hand over Dean's shoulder. "He's getting there."

"What this has to do with Sam..." Amor paused again, frowning. "I...it's hard to explain. When Lucifer was cast down, he split in two. One half, the half that hated humanity, was cast into hell. The other half that loved me, and therefore humanity, fell to earth and became a human soul, free to live and die and be reborn just like any other human soul."

"Sam," the name was brushing by Castiel's lips before he could stop it, so full of awe and shock that the word seemed to drop from the air like a stone.

Sam glanced from Amor to Castiel. "What?"

Castiel shook his head, his eyes wide as a numb sensation crept over him. "Sam...Dad, are you sure?"

"No...not completely," Amor admitted. "But almost. The sword might be considered proof."

Dean exploded. He leaped up from under Castiel's grasp and lunged forward, grabbing Amor by his shirt and hauling him forward until their faces were no more than an inch apart. Amor went limp, not because Dean had startled him, but rather to keep the rash human from harming himself.

"What...does...that...mean?" Dean bit out the words so harshly that Amor flinched with each one.

"Dean." Castiel stood. He loosened Dean's grip so that Amor could reseat himself beside Sam, and turned the hunter to face him. He waited until Dean was looking him in the eye, and then he said slowly, "Dean...Dad believes that Sam is the other half of Lucifer's soul."

There was silence, and then there was the sort of silence that tried to consume everything in the room until nothing remained. For several long moments, no one moved, no one even blinked. It wasn't until Dean let out a shocked, explosive breath that the silence was finally broken.

"That's not possible," Dean denied with a shake of his head.

"Wait, say it is." Sam held up a hand towards Dean, and his voice was remarkably steady. "I, er..." the younger man glanced at Dean, and he flushed a light pink that had Dean's eyebrows reaching for his hairline. "When I think about Amor...I think of him as mine. He became mine minutes after I met him."

"I _am _yours," Amor said without a hint of embarrassment or hesitation.

"No, no, he's not Lucifer, you're not his, just...no!" This time Dean smacked away the hand Castiel used to reach out to him, and when the half-blood saw the darkness in the hunter's eyes as they locked on Amor he felt a shiver of fear rush through him.

"Dean, even if Sam were not..." Amor sighed. "I would still be. Cherubs are quick to emotion, and very quick to love. But he is, I'm almost certain. He has the sword, he knows my real name! I'm just not sure why he's been infected with demon blood...although it's perfectly possible that Azazael has no idea who he is..."

"Unless he does," Sam interrupted. "What if he was looking for me all along? What would that mean?"

Amor shook his head helplessly. "I don't know. I don't...I don't know anything." The angel sagged forward, his head hung low against Sam's shoulder. "I wish I could give you the answers, Sam."

Castiel couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand to see his father like this, so he stepped forward, sank onto the bed behind him, and pulled him into an awkward hug. Amor let out a sigh of such relief that Sam, whose empathy now made so much more sense, responded and pulled him closer as well.

"I'm sorry," Amor murmured suddenly. "Sam, I can't imagine how hard this must be for you to know...and here I am whimpering like a newborn."

"It effects you too," Sam said quietly. He rubbed a hand over Amor's back, glancing over his shoulder to Cas. The half-blood felt, like an unexpected punch, the overwhelming sensations of shock, almost-denial, and resignation flooding Sam's heart, writhing together for dominance. Yet his face, even his eyes, remained so calm, as though he had thrown up some kind of wall to keep the emotions at bay.

That worried Castiel. More than he cared to admit.

...*...

Everyone went to bed after Amor's story, mostly because they didn't know what else to do. Sam watched Cas and Dean climb into the same bed with a vague sense of amusement, one he knew would have been much stronger if it hadn't been for the tale he'd just been told.

Lucifer. He was Lucifer. Or half of him, anyway. Even though Amor had expressed doubt, the moment Castiel spoke the words Sam felt a strange sense of absolute clarity and complete horror. Now it made sense that Amor was his. The empathy he felt towards people, an empathy so many people had declared highly unusual, made more sense. The blade still sitting heavily in his upturned palms...that made a little less sense. How was it that the human portion of the soul of Lucifer had ended up with the blade? He'd meant to ask Amor, but the angel was already curled up on his bed, sound asleep. Were angels supposed to sleep?

Carefully, Sam crawled in behind the cherub. He set the blade down on the bedside table, wondering briefly where it had come from and how he put it back, before he settled into his pillow. Amor's face was smooth and peaceful in sleep, and a small smile curved his lips. Sam felt a ridiculous urge to touch those lips, and to counter it he tucked his hands beneath his chin. Not so ridiculous, he reminded himself. Not with the history that apparently existed between them.

And yet...did it really? Amor had said that Sam was a completely human soul, so did any of that history matter? It wasn't in Sam's memory at all...and yet, in some way, it was. How else would he know to call Amor Anriel? What else explained his overwhelming fondness for the cherub?

A surge of anger suddenly rushed through Sam, and he turned away from the cherub. He didn't want to like Amor because of something he'd done as, apparently, a separate person. He wanted to like him just because he did.

No. He wanted to go back. Back to Jessica, back to college. Back to normal.

Unable to contain the anger, Sam rose from the bed and slipped silently outside.

The young man was considering getting a coke out of the nearby vending machine when a snarky, female voice called his name.

"Sam!"

"Ruby?" Sam squinted towards the far side of the parking lot. He could just make out part of a female shape, peering cautiously around one of the office walls. He hesitated, suddenly wanting very much to be back in bed beside Amor, but instead he made himself walk to her.

"Everyone's asleep," Sam assured her when he saw the nervous look on the demon's face. "What are you doing here?"

Ruby glanced briefly towards his face before her eyes rolled nervously back to the door of the motel room. "You didn't give me an answer earlier."

Sam shuddered. "Look, I appreciate you coming to help with Max, but...I can't do that again."

"Did you tell your brother?"

Sam frowned. He glanced towards the door, thinking with a flash of guilt of the one thought he'd managed to somehow keep hidden from even Amor. "No. Why?"

"If you weren't thinking about doing it again, you would have told him." Ruby said the words with such certainty that Sam felt a chill sink deep into his bones. "Did he even ask?"

"No. I don't think he wanted to," Sam answered with a shake of his head. "All he wanted to do was defend me. That's all he's ever done. Why has never mattered to him, he just protects me. It never mattered if the fights in school were my fault, or if I was the one to blame for a problem. He might ask, eventually, but probably only if I try again."

"Sam, you can't let your brother's reaction stop you." Ruby finally turned away from the door to face him. "Look, Azazael isn't going to stop until he gets what he wants from you, whatever that is, and you need these powers to stop him. I'm following a lead that might tell me why he needs you. It was risky leaving it for this long, so I'll tell you what. I'll finish tracking the lead down, and you think about it, okay? But when I come back, I want an answer."

She never gave Sam the chance to respond. He blinked, and she was gone.

...*...

When Dean woke the next morning, it was to the sound of fingers rapidly tapping away at a keyboard. Groggily, the hunter blinked open his eyes and tried to glance around for the source of the tapping, only his face appeared to be buried in a lot of spiky, brown hair. Chuckling at Cas and his cherub-like need for cuddles, Dean lifted his head and cast his gaze towards the small table by the door. Sam was sitting there, typing away on his laptop, and Dean was just wondering how in the hell he'd gotten a hold of that when he spotted Amor sitting across from him. Oh right. Instant Angel Delivery System.

Without looking away from the screen, Sam picked up his cell phone and waved it in Dean's direction. "Dude. I have pictures."

"Screw you," Dean muttered without animosity. "S'not my fault he likes to cuddle."

"Oh, it's much more than a like," Amor spoke up. He sounded far more cheerful than he had last night, and when he turned towards Dean the hunter saw only traces of the expression that had haunted the cherub's eyes. "It's almost a necessity. Cherubs are based around love and emotion, you know. We thrive on closeness, and Castiel has kept himself, for the most part, entirely separated from physical contact. He's making up for lost time, you know!" The cherub beamed at his son, and then at Dean, as though thanking Dean for being so patient and allowing Castiel to 'make up for lost time.'

Castiel let out a snuffle through his nose and tucked himself in closer to Dean. Automatically, and just because he wanted to, Dean put an arm around his shoulders. It was clear there was no hurry to leave, so instead of rising Dean rested his chin in Castiel's hair. "What've you got?" He asked, waving his free hand towards Sam's laptop.

"Nothing yet," Sam replied. "Unless you count a whole lot of weird, but not the kind of weird we're looking for."

"Aren't we looking for all kinds of weird? We are hunters now."

Sam winced, as though he didn't want to be reminded. "I'm looking for more kids. It's just...it's hard, I don't have anything to go on. Although get this, Max's real Mom died in a fire when he was a baby. Max's Dad claimed he found her..." Sam's face went white, and he closed his eyes briefly before continuing. "Pinned to the ceiling. Just like Jessica."

"Azazael?" Dean asked, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"Seems like it," Sam answered. "Although...Azazael told me he knew who killed Jessica, but Ruby breaking me out seems to indicate he killed Jessica, so..." Sam trailed off, his expression so lost that Dean wanted nothing more than to find Azazael and kill him. Could you kill a demon?

"An angel can," Amor said in response to Dean's thought. "Well, cherubs can't, unless they have a sword. Sam...Sam should be able to, since he does have a sword."

"It disappeared." Sam pointed towards the empty bedside table where he'd left it last night.

Amor nodded. "You probably took it back into yourself while you were asleep."

Dean snorted. When both Sam and Amor cast him a questioning look, Dean merely smirked and said, "Sounds kinky."

"Shut up!" Sam grabbed a pen that had been lying on the table beside his laptop and hurled it at Dean's head. It struck Castiel's instead, bouncing off to land somewhere in the bedding.

"Hey!" Dean scrabbled for the pen, crushing Castiel into the mattress in the process. He almost didn't hear the muffled, sleepy, and very confused outcry of "Dean!"

"Hang on, Cas!" Dean finally swiped the pen from under the blanket. "I'm avenging your head!"

Cas managed to wriggle free enough to mutter, "You're doing _what_?"

Still sprawled partially across Cas's body, Dean took aim and fired the pen at Sam's head. The younger man's hand flew up to catch it, but at the last second the pen took an odd detour in midair, right around Sam's hand and straight into his forehead.

"Ow!" Instantly, Sam whipped his head around and directed an accusing stare in Amor's direction.

"What?" Amor blinked innocently, all wide eyes and twitching lips. "I did nothing!"

A finger poked Dean in the ribs. When he looked down, Dean saw Cas had twisted so that he was lying on his back beneath him, his hair mussed, his eyes half lidded with clinging sleep. He gave Dean a small smile, and Dean, stunned, thought he'd never seen anything quite as gorgeous as Castiel.

"The feeling is mutual," Cas murmured quietly, and while it was somewhat eerie when Amor answered his silent thoughts, somehow it only made Cas all the more appealing.

"Guys." Dean lifted a hand and flicked it towards the door. "Go for a walk."

"What? Dean, I'm res-"

"Go for a walk!" Dean growled, never taking his eyes off Cas's face. "Now!"

"Sam." Amor leaped up from the table, and though he was practically glowing he grabbed the younger man and hauled him up from his seat as though Sam were the small one. "Unless you want to see your brother naked, I suggest we leave."

"What...oh, oh god!" Sam's eyes flew wide, and he practically ran for the door.

The moment said door slammed closed Dean swooped down and kissed Castiel, more roughly than he would have in the beginning now that he knew Cas liked that. Neither one had gotten around to the shaving they'd both realized they needed the night before, but Dean was surprised by how little the rough scratch against his cheeks bothered him.

"Do we have time for this?" Cas muttered against Dean's lips, even as he wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders.

"Sam's researching," Dean muttered back. He trailed down Castiel's rough jawline to his throat, and he grinned wolfishly when he bit down and heard Cas release a soft cry. "We have time."

The hunter was lifting his head to kiss Castiel again when the door blew off it's hinges.

Dean's hands slammed down on either side of Cas as he pressed himself against the other man, shielding him from the wooden splinters as they flew through the room. In response, Castiel began to glow, revealing his white wings curled protectively around Dean's form. Not a single piece of debris struck them, and though it was not accompanied by the strange, jarring sensation he'd experienced before, Dean realized they'd automatically done that Spirit Meld thingy to protect each other.

As though in defiance of spiritual powers and soulmates, the doorknob bounced off Dean's back.

Despite the rather obvious sign of danger, when Dean lifted his head to meet Castiel's eyes both men let out helpless huffs of laughter at the absurdity of the doorknob now lying in defeat beside them.

"The hell was that?" Dean growled around his amusement as he scrambled to his feet. That amusement died swiftly when he realized Sam might still be outside.

Sam was indeed still outside, as well as a girl who couldn't have been any older than nine. Her eyes were pure white, and Dean felt a chill rush through him. Castiel had told them about Azazael and his yellow eyes, and the black eyes of other demons or the red eyes of a crossroads demon, but he hadn't mentioned white eyes.

Amor was lying in the grass several yards from the parking lot. Dean shuddered again at the knowledge that an angel had been knocked down...and then he noticed that Sams' arm was outstretched. He was shaking, and his nose was starting to bleed. The little girl barely twitched, but Dean thought he saw something somewhat unnerved in those milky-white depths.

"Come on, silly, your powers don't work on me!" it was said in a cheerful, girly tone, but the darkness behind it crawled right under Dean's skin. He felt a hand slip around his wrist, and when he glanced to his left he saw Cas had stepped up beside him, and his eyes were locked round and wide on the demon.

"It's Lilith," Castiel murmured.

Dean cast the half-blood a questioning look. "Who? And how do you know?"

"The angels...sometimes I can hear them talking," Castiel answered slowly. "I've tried to shut them out, since we're on the run, but I can hear them now. Dean, we have to get out of here! They're following her, they'll be here soon!"

Dean nodded once. He gently tugged his wrist away from his soulmate and ran towards his brother, who was still locked in the same stance, his eyes narrowed and his breath coming in sharp pants. "Sam! Cas says we've got angels coming!"

"Dean, I can..." Sam let out a sharp cry and suddenly crumpled, his hands flying to his forehead. Lilith laughed, a little girl laugh twisted so cold it made Dean shake.

"Sam, we gotta go!" Dean hauled his little brother up, and then his eyes flew to Amor. Castiel was already there, trying his best to rouse the unconscious angel while his eyes flicked frantically around them.

Lilith frowned suddenly, and looked skyward with a petulant sigh. "Silly angels. Guess you're off the hook for now!"

Dean hardly noticed when the demon vanished. Sam's nose was bleeding profusely, and by the way his hands were pressed against his head, Dean could guess how much pain he was in. "Sam, what the hell did you just try to do?"

"Later." Sam grabbed Dean's shoulders and used the leverage to push himself to his feet. "Where's Amor?"

Dean pointed, and as though he weren't in any pain at all Sam raced across the parking lot and to Amor's side.

"They're coming!" Castiel whispered frantically. "Sam, we have to go! Can you carry him?"

Sam said nothing, merely slipped one arm beneath Amor's shoulders and another beneath his knees, and lifted him as though he weighed nothing.

No one said a word until they were in the Impala and racing down the road at speeds that definitely broke the limit. Normally, Dean would have kept an eye out for cops, but Castiel's panic was filling his chest, so strong it had broken through despite the fact that he hadn't opened up his side of the connection. There was nothing in his mind except running as far as they could, if only to calm the half-blood.

"Cas?" Dean reached out blindly, his eyes locked on the dark road, and found Castiel's knee. He squeezed, hoping the touch would help to reassure him. "You still tuned in to Angel Radio?"

"Yes." Castiel's voice was rough with fear, and when Dean felt Cas's hand slide across to grip his own, it was shaking.

"What are they saying?"

"They're going after Lilith, but she is outrunning them. They sensed our presence, but we are secondary at the moment. We should..." For the first time since he'd spotted Lilith, Castiel let out an explosive breath and began to relax. "We should be alright."

Castiel closed his eyes, and Dean felt some of the tension in his chest ease. "They gone?"

The half-blood nodded. "I've blocked them. Just...keep driving."

They drove through the rest of the night, until the sun was just beginning to peek above the horizon and Dean was starting to feel like he'd fall asleep at the wheel. Only then did they stop at a cheap motel somewhere on the outskirts of Indianapolis. By that time, Castiel had fallen asleep with his head against the window and his hand still curled over Dean's, and Amor hadn't so much as twitched.

"Can angels even be knocked out?" Dean asked after he'd stopped the car and was helping a sleepy half-blood tumble out of the passenger seat.

"Cherubs can," Cas replied tiredly. "Because they are partially physical. Has he woken at all?"

"Not even a twitch." Dean opened the back door. Amor was lying with his head in Sam's lap, and Sam was out cold with his head back against the seat. "Maybe he's just sleeping?" Dean added, more for Castiel's benefit than his own.

"Maybe," Castiel echoed, not sounding convinced.

Dean was reluctant to wake his little brother, and while he was fairly confident he could carry Amor, Sam was an entirely different matter. He lifted one hand and shook Sam carefully, until the younger man's head rolled forward and a soft, reluctant moan escaped his throat.

"Sorry, kiddo, but unless you wanna wake up with one hell of a crick in your neck, we gotta go inside."

Sleepy Sammy was a giant kid, and Dean knew that better than even their parents because he was the one who'd almost always found Sam downstairs in the middle of the night when he'd sleep walk, or the one who hauled him home when they stayed out too long. Younger Dean had started calling Sam 'kiddo' because that was what their parents had called him. He used it now because he knew Sam, half asleep or no, would respond to it.

Sam blinked at him, eyes still full of dreams, and then looked down at the angel in his lap. He smiled softly, stroking a hand through Amor's messy hair. "He's okay," Sam murmured. "Just sleepin' it off, now."

"Yeah? That's good. We should get him in bed, then, help him sleep." Dean knew how Sam worked; it didn't matter how tired, hurt, or upset he was, he always thought about others first.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, even as his eyes began to droop again. He let Dean haul him out of the car, and even as tired as he was he was still able to pick Amor up like he was nothing.

Dean went inside and got a room from an older man who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but behind that desk. He didn't respond to Dean's tired smile, or speak at all except to say, "Sixty-five," in a dull, toneless voice. He mutely handed Dean his room key and proceeded to act like he wasn't there at all.

By the time the hunter got back outside, Castiel was holding both their duffel bags and talking to Sam to help keep him functional.

"Dad really is okay," Castiel told Dean when he'd reached them. "He was trapped inside himself for a few hours, he's not sure how Lilith did it, but he's just sleeping now to get rid of the residual effects. He was able to tell Sam while he was sleeping."

Dean nodded, too tired to care how exactly Amor had accomplished that. Probably the same way Cas had. He gestured towards their room with his key. "We're in twelve," he mumbled. He hadn't realized just how out of it he was until he knew how close he was to a bed.

The little group never even got undressed. Dean fell face first into the pillows of the bed furthest from the door after making sure Sam and Amor were settled. He felt Cas crawl in behind him, and the hunter drifted off with Castiel's reassuring, warm weight settled firmly against his back.

...*...

"Sam..."

"Please." Sam reached out and grabbed Amor's shoulders with both hands. He knew he was dreaming, that he wasn't really talking to the cherub, except that he was, and wasn't that confusing? "Please, just one. Just show me one."

In the dream, Amor's wings stretched from his back, as purely white as fresh snow. There were feathers, but they were as unlike bird feathers as they were similar, and Sam couldn't understand that paradox no matter how hard he tried.

"It's just..." Amor sighed. He put his own hands on Sam's shoulders and leaned forward so that their foreheads were pressed together. "The information is so new, Sam. Are you sure you want to delve into it so quickly? It's not...you are different from Lucifer, you understand that? You are a piece of him, but you're the piece that chose to evolve. Not the one that hated."

"I know." Sam shuddered, because the knowledge was still too new, but he pressed on anyway. "Just one. Just show me one. Maybe...maybe it'll help."

Amor took a deep breath, and then he suddenly stepped back, beaming as brightly as he usually did. "Oh, I have a good one I can show you! Here, take my hand!" He held it out excitedly, and Sam took it with surprisingly little hesitation.

They'd been standing by the river where Dean and Sam fished, but without warning the image wavered and became something...else. Something Sam couldn't quite comprehend. There was something solid beneath his feet, yet it appeared to be only darkness. Yet in the darkness was a light, a kind of light Sam had never seen before. It wasn't the sun, or the stars, or artificial, it just...was. It existed in every space of the darkness, yet it did not consume it. The closest description Sam could think of was a perfect symbiosis of darkness and light.

"Don't try to comprehend this place," Amor warned him lightly. "You can't yet. Just...accept it as you see it."

Sam nodded, and kept a tight grip on the cherub's hand, afraid that if he lost that connection he would lose himself to this place. "Is this the good memory you were going to show me?"

"Yes. Look over there." Amor pointed...did this place have a direction? Sam just looked where he pointed, and he saw, standing in the dark light, Amor and another angel.

Amor looked the same as he did now, except that his inner glow was shining so brightly that Sam knew he'd probably be blind if he were awake. The other angel was in a human form, and he too glowed brightly, even more brightly than Amor. His wings were massive, stretching out well beyond the cherubs, and Sam realized with a start that one was black and one was white. The humanity in him tried to describe the angel beyond the wings and glow, but he found that he couldn't. He knew that the angel was beautiful, so beautiful that it was as incomprehensible as this place, but he was not definable.

As Sam watched, the angel with two different wings began to lean towards Amor. He was taller by nearly a head, so Amor leaned up on his toes to meet him. Sam watched as they tentatively kissed, thinking it shouldn't have been as profound as it was. It was just a kiss, he thought, and a very hesitant and awkward one at that. What was so special about it?

"It was the first," Amor replied. He gripped Sam's hand tighter, and he leaned into Sam's side, his cherub nature demanding closeness in this moment. "Not just our first. _The _first."

"The first kiss?" Sam almost giggled, because it just sounded so funny to him. But as he watched the two come closer to each other, tangling together in ways humans couldn't quite manage, glowing so brightly that even dream-Sam could no longer see them, that laughter died in his throat.

"Why a kiss?" Sam couldn't help but ask. "I mean, you didn't even really have physical bodies, right? So what made you think, yeah, let's lock lips. That sounds great."

Amor laughed out loud. He threw one arm around Sam's shoulders in an awkward side-hug. "We didn't know, actually," Amor admitted. "We just knew we wanted to. And we do have physical bodies, if we want to. Cherubs more so than other angels, but he...you...liked the sensations associated with a body. And yes, it's very different from a human body, but it still feels."

For a moment the two were silent, watching the glow that encased the two angels frozen forever in that precious memory. Eventually, Amor murmured, "I think...when humans kiss, it's just as intimate as the right kind of sex. Not that there's anything wrong with casual sex, it just doesn't have that closeness that humans in love have. But I think we knew that a kiss would be the intimacy that helped humans to come together, and we just...we wanted to experience it, too."

Sam curled his fingers more tightly into Amor's. Had they been awake, Sam was fairly certain his bones would have been creaking by now.

"Thank you." The world around them began to fade, and Sam knew they were waking up. "For showing me this one."

...*...

TBC


End file.
